The Time That Is Given
by woundedowl
Summary: Princess Elizabeth wakes up twenty-five years in the future, as Queen Elizabeth of Lioness. It's a future seemingly at peace, a peace never before seen by all the clans. How did she get here, and will she ever get back to her own time? A collaboration between Lickitysplit and Woundedowl!
1. Time Doesn't Stop

Disclaimer: Spoilers through chapter 177 of the manga. Thank you for reading this, and a big shout out and thank you to LICKITYSPLIT, my love and soul who's helping me write this! I could never had made it through the second paragraph without you. God bless alcohol.

Chapter one: Time Doesn't Stop

* * *

"Take me… there."

"But…"

"I'm begging you."

The wind swirled around Elizabeth as she was swept out of the castle by Gilfrost's magic. She closed her eyes and held her breath, and it took only a moment for her feet to touch the ground. Only a moment between standing inside the safety on the castle hundred of miles away, to here. Her stomach lurched at being back, in this place where just a few hours ago everything seemed so very different; it seemed like a lifetime away. She peered through the dust and smoke that surrounded her.

"Sir Meliodas!" she shouted, her voice echoing and she started to walk, coughing against the harsh air as each step felt more unsteady than the last. "Please answer me!" She hurried, the silence pressing in around her, and the only other sound other than the clicking of her boots on the rock beneath her was the sound of her heart pounding in her head.

When she found him, it was worse than she had ever feared.

Seeing him in the orb did nothing to prepare her for the sheer gruesomeness of his body pierced with the swords, his missing arm, and how his face was almost aguishly peaceful. Blood covered everything; his pants, his skin, his hair and down his chin, the ground. What was not drenched in blood was battered or broken or bruised or missing.

But it was the utter stillness that brought the choking sob into her throat. The utter finality. Meliodas was always doing something: talking, planning, fighting, drinking. Laughing or looking or watching over her in the corner of his eye. He would even toss around and murmur in his sleep. She could not think of another moment when he was so very, very still.

The tears began, streaming down her face. These tears felt like no other, nothing ever as heavy and unwanted as these. "There you are… Sir Meliodas…" She half expected him to sit up and wink at her, to ask her what was wrong. To crack open a eye and tell her his secret plan that was a trickery against the Ten Commandments. That this, this agony was a lie, and not to be afraid. Her hand went to cover her mouth as she approached.

She knelt next to him, pulling him up by the shoulders and cradling him closely. His skin was cold and slick with the blood and sweat. "Please," she choked. Suddenly the full weight of the moment hit her, and she became overwhelmed. No, not like this. With a sob she held him so very close. "Not like this," she whimpered. The tears flowed like rivers down her face, and she could do nothing but sob, not finding any reason not to fall into the darkness of despair as her fingers gripped him tightly, and she held his head against her shoulder.

On and on she cried; she wept at every thought and every single moment and every touch and every smile, all the hopeful dreams where they would have stayed together, by each other's side, until it was just them in a Boar's Hat; she thought that she would never stop sobbing. Elizabeth could barely breathe, until finally she tilted her head back and wailed. All of her anguish was poured into that cry, her voice finally rising into a scream that echoed through the clearing.

Then, it was over.

Her hysterics faded as she was left sitting on the ground, completely empty. Elizabeth looked down at the body- this wasn't Meliodas, this was just an empty and cold shell- and she held it and welcomed the numbness that took over. It terrified her to know she wouldn't fight it, and it consumed her as it filled her mind. She trembled slightly as exhaustion took her. Her head dropped to her chest and her shoulders slumped.

Whether it was seconds, or hours, or years, Elizabeth could not tell. She simply sat, staring at his face. Her once bright eyes were dull, lacking life. Her mind and her heart were empty, blank. What had it been before, and what life was it now that he was gone? For a brief moment she wondered if the Ten Commandments were still somewhere nearby, but she was too numb to even feel fear. Let them come, she thought.

She was so engulfed in her grief, her heart so heavy in her chest, that at first she did not feel the pinprick on the back of her neck. It felt like a mosquito landing, and she turned her head, annoyed to be disturbed. But then the winds came again, and she suddenly realized that Gilfrost was going to transport her back. "Not yet!" she shouted, and gripped Meliodas even more tightly. She squeezed her eyes shut as the air churned around her.

Then, Elizabeth woke up.

Staring up at the ceiling she blinks again and again, laying unmoving in a giant bed. What, how? She should have been awake, when did she fall asleep? She raises a hand up and gasps to see she was devoid of armor, of the blood she had gotten on her fingers. Covers of plush sheets and the most comfortable pair of pillows she'd rested on are against her head, and she takes deep breath after deep breath. She is safe, tucked away and comfortable.

Which is a problem.

This is a room fit for royality, everything the most highest quality as she spots the large oak carved furniture, the ornate rugs, the strangely personal knick knacks, and rich curtains hangings above the banister. This room is… strangely comfortable and seemingly familiar, even if she can't quite put a finger on why. Where is she? She starts to stir further, sitting up slowly as the blankets fell away. She runs a nervous hand over her sleeping gown that has bunched up by her hips and she nervously bites her lip.

Turning her head to the side she absentmindedly notices two large patio doors leading out to a balcony, a large intricate golden frame around a painting of the Boar's Hat of all things, and…

And her breath sticks in her throat.

"S-sir- Sir Meliodas?" Her voice trembles, the words cracking as she suddenly feels extremely light headed.

He is there. Laying still, peacefully on his stomach with an arm under his pillow as his chest rises and falls, slowly. His cheeks have a slight blush of life to them, his mouth is slightly parted as he takes small breaths. He looks so peaceful.

And alive.

For a long moment she stares at him, trembling. She is gripped with a sudden terror, wondering what has been done to her. Has she snapped- perhaps losing a love can make a person lose their sanity? Slowly she moves, her limbs trembling terribly while she tries to climb out of the bed, hoping she could get away before the person next to her hears.

The figure sighs and stirs. "Elizabeth?" he mumbles groggily, and the voice grips her heart. Her face whirls back sharply, a panic starting to rise in her throat. It's his voice, his voice, his, but it's not him, this isn't real. Meliodas is dead. He was still in the vast wasteland, not sleeping here.

Her heart skips a beat. She wants to believe it is him, oh how she wished she did, but there is something wrong. She squints and peers closer in the dim light of the room, and can tell immediately that his face was too pink with life, his face different from just moment ago. It's subtle changes, some things here and there that she almost couldn't fully pinpoint, but whoever this is, it is not the person she just held in Vaizel.

Not, it is not him. Fear fills her again, and she bites her lip to withhold a whimper before she tries again to move away.

Only for a hand to then reach out and grip her waist, pulling her back down against the bed before she can escape. The figure moves over her, and Elizabeth gives a squeak. His head falls against her neck, and she finds herself halfway covered by him, his leg wrapping around hers as his arm tightens against her back. He murmurs against her skin, and Elizabeth trembles.

She places shaking hands against his shoulder and gives a small push. "Let me go," she whimpers. It comes out like a half sob. "Please."

"What's the matter?" he mumbles lightly. His voice is so very painfully comforting; she needs him to stop. He shifts closer to her, nuzzling against her and she can only describe the feeling like knives against her already cracking heart. It hurts. "Did you have a nightmare or something?"

"Who are you?" she chokes.

The figure stills for a moment. Then he lifts his head, his eyes partially blocked by the bangs that fall into his face. "What?" he asks sleepily.

"Who are you?!" she yells this time, pushing hard against his shoulders as he jolts fully awake. He lets go and she scrambles away, pushing blankets and pillows towards him as she kicks her feet free. She tumbles out of the bed and she lands with a thud, the blanket now twisted around her leg.

The figure jumps up, climbing around the bed towards her. "Elizabeth?" he calls. "Are you all right?" He moves closer, and she fights to free herself, pushing herself away from the bed with her hands as she pulls her legs out of the heap of linens. Elizabeth scrambles up and tries to run, but she knocks into the bedside table, crying out in pain as she bangs her knee.

She doesn't get far, as now the figure is just there, in her way faster than she can blink. She grips her nightgown with her trembling hand, gasping for breath as she suddenly finds she can't get enough of it. She feels his hands settle on her arms, rubbing up and down gently. "What's wrong? Did you hurt yourself?"

His voice sets her shaking again. How can he have Meliodas' voice? How can he have his face so perfectly- nothing like the trickster Imps. It was too perfect, and she closes her eyes and shakes her head, willing herself to stay on her feet. She bites her lip to keep from screaming. This is too much to take.

"Please," she finally croaks as he takes a step closer. She opens her eyes, meeting the gaze of the man standing in front of her. Everything tilts at an angle.

"Elizabeth." His hands on her are strong and sure, grounding her for a moment, and his green eyes look back at her, his brows furrowed in concern. His blond hair is slightly askew, messed from the struggle in the bed, and his expression, oh...

Her limbs tingled in an unpleasant manner, and spots began appearing in her vision.

"Who are you?"

He pauses, his expression closing off in a way she knows. But then suddenly he smiles. "Elizabeth, calm down. You've just had a bad dream. It's me, Meliodas."

"NO!" Her scream surprises them both, and he instantly lets go of her arms. She pushes past him in a frenzy and runs, bolting from the room.


	2. Change All Around

A/N: LICKETYSPLIT TOLD ME TO SAY SHE'S EXTREMELY PLEASED. ALSO SHE'S NOT VERY SURE WHY SHE'S SHOUTING, IT JUST FEELS APPOPRAITE. This is so wonderful, thank you to everyone, this took a lot of arguing, bargaining, and about two full bottles of wine to write. Thank you sweet baby lord for the invention of alcohol. Also don't try to write with a two year old eating spaghetti in your lap, it gets EVERYWHERE.

Bettybest2: Fantastic! I'm looking forward to finding out what you think of finding out what you looking forward to!

Alexandrorca: Dude. Dude, that's awesome I'm so glad that you're liking this Elizabeth centered story. I usually never end up reading stories about characters I don't like, mostly because my hatred burns deep within my soul for them. Like Estarossa. That prick can jump off a cliff and fall into the sun that little crying chin hair _bastard_. Oh yes, there are differences (teeny tiny ones) but Elizabeth did notice them. Twenty five years is a lot, some things might have changed here or there.

Cerulean Grace: My love. My light of my life, the most awesome amazing person that is _My star_ that I might start stalking soo- Hahahaha! What did I just say, no what was I talking about? Oh right, thank you for reviewing love! You are amazing.

Kamira: I won't tell you. You're right twenty five years is a long time yea, anything could happen. So many things. So many possibilities.

tnw0918: Thanks dude. I like it when people find my drunken musing to be interesting. I swear without Lickity none of this would be coherent- so make sure you pray to her like I do for the power to one day take over the world.

SirensEye91: Ok one, I love your name. Why didn't I think of that name. And two thank you! I wanna give you a big bear hug but Lickity says I need to stop chasing people down the street and tackling them with love.

Whitangel: Thank you love.

Chapter Two: Change All Around

* * *

"Elizabeth!" Meliodas- whoever was pretending to be Meliodas- yells her name again as she trips over her own feet, scrambling down the hallway even as she caught the sight of his blond hair in the corner of her eye. But he makes no move to grab her.

Her only thought is to get away. She has to run, faster than her nightgown would allow as she rounded corner after corner, and then another, bouncing off the edges of walls as she continued to trip the length of the hallways. The corridors become dimly lit as his calls drift further away. She sprints down an empty castle, but as she reaches a dead end and turns, she finds a staircase that looks strangely familiar. Taking the needed steps to change her route she reaches another staircase and turns a corner, only to come up short when she reaches the bottom.

She _knows_ this place, but- but how? This doesn't make sense, _none of this makes sense._ Her heart pounding from the exertion she slowly turns around, taking in her surroundings.

She finally notices a large suit of decorative armor against the wall, with a long broad sword and shield between its hands. Quickly she plies the sword from it and holds it up, barely able to keep the tip off the ground as she carries it. It is heavy, neither sharp nor functional, but she decides it is far better than nothing. Holding it at an awkward angle, her muscles shaking, she takes notice of the pictures on the walls for the first time, the colored glass in the windows… she knows she has seen this all before. It almost looks like…

 _But that's impossible._

She continues shakily down the corridor, the point of the sword rounding the corners before her as more things look familiar, and she finds herself knowing where to go. There is another staircase, and then a few turns, and Elizabeth's mind churns queasily as she tries to make sense of all of this. This- this- _whatever this was._ The only sounds are her own soft footfalls as she moves through the silent corridors.

Elizabeth reaches what she knows to be a dining hall and stops. The solid oak doors are carved with familiar symbols, and she places a hand on one, tracing the smooth wood. These are doors that she has walked through hundreds upon hundreds of times as far back as she can remember. What are they doing here? _Where is here?_

Her trembling hand reaches for the doorknob as she leans her weight against it, pushing the door open. Just as she thought, inside there is a long, grand table, with rows of high-backed chairs lining the room. The same chandelier and the same ornate rug, the same large windows to the side where she had leaned out of so many times. Elizabeth steps inside and sucks in a breath before turning to face the wall.

There, just as she had thought, is a huge tapestry. It is a portrait of the king, his formal crown sitting on top of his grey head, his long beard hanging over a robe of rich purple. He sits in a chair, surrounded by three little girls perched proudly around him. The oldest, a tall and slender beauty with indigo hair, stands with her hand on the king's shoulder, a small smile on her face. Another girl, much shorter with short violet hair, stands on the other side, her grin and eyes wide, her skinny arm linking with the king's. And at his feet sits the youngest, her legs tucked under her, the only one of the three with silver hair-

Footsteps echo in the hallway, and Elizabeth whirls around, her sword up even as it shakes. A tall figure approaches, and she shrinks backwards until her foot hits a chair with a clatter. "Stop!" she calls, her voice wavering. "Don't come any closer."

"Yo! Hey, queenie, is that you?" Elizabeth gasps at the familiar voice. He moves into the room, and as he steps into the light she sees that it's Ban. A Ban wearing clothes she hadn't seen before, with hair longer than he'd ever worn it. He stumbles slightly, his cheeks blushed with ale and carrying a bottle in one hand. "What the hell are ya holding? You all right?"

"What are you doing here?" she cries, panic starting to rise again in her throat as her usually soft tone takes a higher pitch. It's shrill to even her ears.

Ban takes a drink from the bottle, a very long chug and swallow before he continues to walk towards her. He grins in a way only Ban could as he sways with an easy gait. "Trying to find somewhere to sleep. Isn't it past your bedtime?" He laughs at his joke, but stops short when he sees her frightened expression. "Hey? What'cha doin-"

He doesn't get to finish as her sword clatters to the floor, her face paling dramatically as she faints, and he catches her before she hits the ground with a loud curse.

* * *

When Elizabeth wakes this time, she feels groggy, and her head pounds. She slowly brings a hand up to her head, wincing as she feels something that suspiciously feels like a bump. Had she fallen? Had that been the cause of her earlier dreams?

"What happened?" she wonders out loud, groggily keeping her eyes close as she pulls at her blankets.

"You fainted," a familiar voice says, next to her again and she jolts awake. Ignoring the sharp pain in her temple, she sits up and sees Meliodas hovering over her, in a chair close to her bedside. The look of concern and relief of her waking is so painfully reminiscent of the time after the battle against Hendrickson that, as he leaned forward she flinches, and he clearly notices it. "Elizabeth. Are you okay?"

She is back in the bedroom she tried to escape, and wildly looks around. The room is lit, and she can see through the window it's still the middle of the night. _No, it's later than that_ , she thinks suddenly. _The sun was just rising._ With a strangled but soft cry, she pushes back, scrambling across the bed and away from the sitting man. "Get away from me!"

"Elizabeth, calm down," Meliodas says with a frown, his hands grabbing hold onto her ankle so she couldn't fall off the bed again, and he stresses his next question. "What is wrong?"

"Who are you?" she shouts. Reaching the other side of the bed she kicks his hand free and climbs to her feet, keeping the bed between them as she arms herself with a pillow. "Where am I?"

Meliodas' frown deepens, looking up and down from her weaponized pillow to her paling skin. "Elizabeth… it's me. _Meliodas_." She starts to shake her head furiously, and he rushes on as his shoulders tense, his lips tightening in the way Meliodas did when he was annoyed. "We're home. This is our room."

"You can't be Meliodas," she blurts out, shaking her pillow at him in what she hoped was a menacing way. "Meliodas is dead."

There is a heavy silence as the two look at each other. She jumps when another voice says, "Damn." Elizabeth turns in surprise and sees Ban is there, lounging in a chair on the other side of the room with another cup in hand and a leg thrown over a cushion.

"I'm not dead. See?" Meliodas says slowly, leaning back to give her a bit more room. He holds up a hand to touch his chest, trying to show her he was solid as Ban gets up, lazily walking towards them. "Elizabeth? Whatever is wrong, whatever has happened, we will figure it out. Just please, calm down."

For a moment, she wants to believe him. Her shoulders sag and she takes a deep breath to steady herself. But then the vision of Meliodas, dead in her arms, comes back to her.

His body cold. His seven hearts pierced and she can't stop _trembling_.

She throws the pillow at his head, and he ducks.

She grabs for the nearest things, spinning around as a surge of adrenaline helps her pick up the heaviest thing she can find. And things start sailing through the air towards him.

Knick knacks, pens, a perfume bottle which shatters against the back wall, a glass ornate sculpture that does the same, a comb, a few papers, a slipper, she keeps throwing things and he continues moving out of the way. It is not until her hands meets the last thing on the table that she whirls around and darts away from the bed.

"Stay back!" Elizabeth yells, holding out the hairbrush in front of her, and Meliodas makes a clear effort to give her even more space. He looks worriedly at the now empty table as Ban pushes a heavy statue away with his foot, and she hits the side of the desk with her hip in the flurry to get away. Holding up his hands in a placid manner, Elizabeth's heart is lodged in her throat as she meets his eyes again, a determined but steadfast resolution to his even expression as she finally stops. She backs up and leans against the furthest wall. Neither men make a move to get closer. "I'm not crazy." her voice quivers, but still holding far more determination than she actually feels as they have effectively trapped her. "I am not. You aren't real."

"No one's saying that, Elizabeth." Meliodas keeps his voice soft, and calm.

"Well if he ain't gonna say it." Ban snarks dryly, gesturing in her general direction. "What'cha gonna call this capt'n?"

"Not helping." Meliodas frowns, watching as the trembling in Elizabeth's shoulders become worse, her eyes darting to and fro around the room without focusing. He tilts his head in Ban's direction, catching his attention. "Get a physician." The hairbrush goes sailing past his head, which he easily dodges. " _Now._ "

Ban goes as Meliodas moves in a flash, and before she can react he has his arms around her, pinning them down so she can't throw anything else. Elizabeth cries out and tries to kick, even head butt him as they tumble to the carpeted floor, but he expertly pulls her down to safely pin her. On his knees, he braces her against him, her back against his chest. "Elizabeth, _please_ ," he begs. "This isn't you. What's wrong?"

"You're not Sir Meliodas," she cries, half shouting and half sobbing as she continues to try to wiggle free. "You can't be!"

Meliodas growls in frustration. He tightens his arms around her and presses the side of his face against hers as she tries to flinch away. "How? How can I prove this to you?"

Elizabeth blinks at the question and goes still, her legs stopping momentarily in her quest to kick him in retribution as her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. Then she looks at him. "W-What did you take from me in the Forest of White Dreams?" she finally croaks out as he lets out a puff of air. After a moment, he relaxes his grip slightly.

"I took your panties." He laughs at the memory, unable to help himself.

She stops struggling completely, and turns her body to face him. "H-how did you know that?" Her face goes bright red as he grins, wiggling his eyebrows. Elizabeth had never told anyone that. It was completely embarrassing.

Meliodas laughs and shakes his head. "I told you, it's really me." His hands move to squeeze her shoulders, not wanting to completely let her go just yet. His tone turns serious as he asks, "Please tell me what is going on."

She stares at him with pleading eyes. "I don't understand," she whispers, blinking over and over. "How is this possible? How did we get here?" She looks around the room in confusion as he grabs her hand. "Are we… are we back at the castle? Did Gilfrost bring us here?"

Did he do something that _brought_ Meliodas back?

"Gilfrost?" Meliodas draws back in surprise. "What would he be doing here?"

"He sent me to you, and I thought-I thought he had brought me back-" Her eyes still travel around the room, finally settling on the picture of the Boar's Hat. That wasn't there before. This room wasn't here we she left, she is sure of it.

Meliodas peers at her closely. "Elizabeth," he says tightly, but she interrupts him. "Sir Meliodas, how-how did you survive?" She places a hand on his cheek, her head whipping around from the portrait as her eyes begin brimming with tears. "I saw you, I was there, and you were…" Elizabeth trails off as her eyes move down, tracing over where his arm had been severed, where the swords had sliced through his torso. Her eyes fly back up to meet his. "I thought you were dead." She cannot stop the tears that well up at the thought, and Meliodas brushes them away.

His brows pull together as she drops her head down and cries silently. "Elizabeth, why would you think I was dead?"

"They killed you," she sobs, choking on the words. Her voice and her body shake. "They killed you, and there was nothing I could do, I couldn't stop them, I couldn't save you… There was so much blood…" Her hand moves from his cheek down to his chest. Her palm traces over him as if to prove to herself that he is alive. When she is satisfied, she moves towards him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her face against his neck.

"Who? Who did this?" he presses. He holds her close as his hands stroke her back.

"The Ten Commandments," she answers with another sob.

She feels him stiffen. His hands stop moving, and his palms press against her back, holding her to him. "Elizabeth," he whispers. "That was twenty-five years ago."


	3. Great Awakening

A/N: So, have you ever had to just looked down at a computer and think _why have you betrayed me?_ If it wasn't for Lickitysplit there would be no chapter, no random run on sentences, no love left in this hard pressed life.

BettyBest2:Elizabeth isn't going have it easy for like, the entirety of this story. Thank you for liking it love cause I'm super excited whenever I see your reviews. Lickitysplit says I need to stop screaming and sending her long texts overflowing with my undying love for you in poetry and haikus but I can't help it. She'll get used to it.

Kamira: Ha! Yes, it probably would have been cooler but _oh my god the drama_. We thought it was appropriate to meet Ban cause drama, and it would be dramatic if she dramatically met him with such a dramatic attitude. Drama.

Fanficlove2014: Ellie is one of my favorite characters because she can freak out at the same time that she gets something done. And we're super excited to see where this goes too, cause we've got like twenty ideas and only two computers.

Guest: Yes, poor Elizabeth. We're looking forward to seeing how she reacts too! Don't worry, you'll be seeing much more of Ban and what's he's doing there soon.

Night: So glad you are excited! We always believed Elizabeth is smarter than she gets credit for.

Chapter Three: Great Awakening

* * *

The morning is still cold while Meliodas sits in one of the private rooms he shares with Elizabeth, doing what he always does when he had no idea what to do: drinking. He wishes again he could sneak down to one of the taverns in the city, or even head out to the Boar's Hat. He always stocks it with the best Bernia ale, for stressful moments like this. But Elizabeth is still with the doctor and he wants to speak to him immediately after he is done with the examination. Plus, it's shortly after sunrise, it wouldn't look too great for the king to be getting drunk before breakfast.

And Hawk would have his head if he left. The porker.

He rubs his eyes, taking another long gulp as he drained his cup, and then quickly pours himself another. The door opens and he jumps to his feet, before sinking back down when he sees it's just Ban. "There you are," Ban says, kicking the door shut behind him. He yawns, scratching his scalp as he walks over to the table, taking a seat across from his old pal Meliodas. Grabbing the bottle, he pours himself a drink as well and takes a sip before making a face. "What's this shit? It's terrible."

Meliodas ignores him as he stares down in his cup. There's a long pause as they just sit there, Ban staring at the grain of wood in the table before he says, "So, what's going on? Have ya figured it out-"

He is cut off by Meliodas shaking his head. "I have no idea. She thought I was dead. That I had been killed by the Ten Commandments."

"Those bastards again?" Ban says in surprise, actually having to think back to that hell hole of a time, and hisses as he remembers that yes- the bastard's did do that a long time ago, hadn't they? As Meliodas takes another drink from his cup, Ban sighs. "What made her think that?"

"No idea. She hasn't brought them up recently, or any other events. I'm sure of it." He puts down the cup and pauses, a deep frown on his face. "It was like she barely recognized it was me, Ban." He runs a hand through his hair, tousling a couple strands loose from his crown in irritation, and pushes the goblet away.

"You gotta hold it together Capt'n." Ban flicks an imaginary ball of fuzz off his royal suit as he snatches up the king's drink, and Meliodas sends him a thankful look as he downs it in one go. That wine was truly awful. "She doesn't mean it. You know that."

"Yeah. I know," he huffs dryly with a weak smile. He stands up to pace as he thought back to their earlier argument, and Ban comes to stand by him. "Kind of hard to do when she's trying to throw whatever she can grab at my head."

"She would have thrown that chair too, if ya let her."

"Ha ha ha." Meliodas closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. "She called me Sir Meliodas."

Ban cringes. "So there's a chance she also doesn't remember…" he makes a vague gesture towards Meliodas, and the king rubs his forehead as a new headache starts up.

The door to the room opens again. This time the aged physician and his assistant hurriedly coming forward as the elderly man wipes sweat from his brow.

"Your Majesty!" The physician gives a little bow as Meliodas steps towards him. "I've examined the queen, and gave her a drink to help her rest, but..." He coughs uneasily as his assistant fidgets in place next to him, not daring to look the king in the eye. "Well, Sire, there is nothing wrong with her."

"Nothing wrong with her?" Meliodas exclaims, pauses, before he points at his crown. "She was throwing things at my head."

The physician clears his throat. "Not physically wrong, I suppose. She was not harmed in any way. She has no injuries, no fever. She appears perfectly healthy."

"Seriously now?" Ban scoffs, picking up both his and Meliodas' goblets and taking a drink one after another as the physician clears his throat again, nodding.

Meliodas folds his arms. "She didn't know who I was, where we were. The things she was saying…" His voice trails off as he takes a deep breath, blowing it out. "There must be something wrong."

Shrugging, the physician continues with a light hearted chuckle, hoping to dispel the tension. "Well, Sire, if it is not a physical ailment, then it must be…" He trails off and leans in as if to share a secret. "I cannot pretend to understand the inner workings of the queen's mind." Meliodas frowns, but the physician does not notice the king's foot start to tap. "But perhaps, well, there is something that has upset the queen? Perhaps Your Majesties had a… disagreement of some kind recently?"

"A disagreement?" Meliodas voice is flat.

The elderly man nods. "It happens to many couples, young man. Husbands and wives will occasionally quarrel, and sometimes one will go to… well, extreme measures to prove a point. If the queen is looking for attention, for instance, this would be an excellent way to go about getting it."

"You think the queen wants attention." It's a statement, not a question. Now his finger is tapping, and Meliodas wonders what the hell this guy was thinking. Did he think he was some clueless newlywed who couldn't control his hysterical wife? Elizabeth was nothing close. That maybe he was looking for some grandfatherly advice, even though he had about three thousand years on him? He glances behind the man to take note of the sweating assistant, the younger man's face morphing into one of horror.

"It's possible." The physician pauses to think again. "It's not the only explanation, of course. Do you know if there is a history of this sort of behavior in the family?"

" _Baaan?_ " Meliodas says slowly. "How far up are we?"

"Hmm." Ban takes a peek out the window. "We're about four stories up, I'd say."

Meliodas nods, closing his eyes in deep, deep, concentration. "So when I toss this man out the window, it won't kill him, right?"

The physician goes instantly pale and steps backwards, and as he starts to stammer and sputter, only to be cut off when Ban steps forward. "Probably will just hurt him real bad."

"Good." The look on Meliodas' face is now undeniable, and, with the first good decision he had made since entering the room, the physician turns and runs, followed quickly by his assistant as the door is left swinging behind them. Both Meliodas and Ban ignore the high pitched manly squeal down the corridor.

Ban begins laughing hysterically, bending over as he points at the now empty doorway before Meliodas frowns again. "I'm going to check on Elizabeth." He looks at Ban seriously. "Send word to Camelot, will you? Ask Merlin to come. Tell her to do it quietly."

"Sure can do, cap."

He doesn't wait to see Ban leave as he walks towards the bedroom next door, and before he knocks quietly enters, he hesitates at the doorway. Elizabeth is on the bed, her head back on the pillows and her hands claps on top the covers. Her eyes are closed and she looks peaceful, and for that he is glad.

Meliodas lets out a puff of air as he comes closer, sitting on the edge of the bed as he examines her closely. "Elizabeth?" he says quietly, but she does not answer. His face is unreadable as reaches out a hand and takes one of hers, rubbing his thumb against her skin, but his mind races. However Elizabeth does not move, not even a twitch, far too deep in sleep. Gritting his teeth, he thinks about that physician again, and wishes he had actually tossed him out of the window. What did he even give her to make her sleep like this?

He watches her for a bit, wondering if he should try to wake her, finding her total stillness unnerving as he rubs the knuckles on her hand soothingly. Finally, he whispers, "Elizabeth?" and pulls her hand up and gives it a kiss. Elizabeth starts to stir as he watches, silently taking notice of the line of stress between her brow, how her face was a shade too pale, and kept her fingers pressed against his lips as she murmured. She sighs and her eyes flutter open, and they land on his, hazy from the medicine, but she smiles. "Sir Meliodas," she sighs.

Sir, again. He forces himself to smile. "Are you feeling any better?"

She nods. "I'm so glad you're not dead." He swallows thickly at her words, wondering again how she could be so confused. Her eyes close slowly for a moment before she looks at him again. "I thought…" She sighs again, a small but dazed smile on her lips. "I thought I would never see you again. But here you are."

"Yes, here I am." Heat flushes under his skin, and for a moment he thinks of his magic scratching at him as he tries to keep his expression even. His pulse beats loudly inside his head as he clears his throat. What could have possibly happened to her? She was fine when they had gone to bed, he is sure of it. But this… this isn't the Elizabeth he knows. This isn't stress.

"I tried to save you," she murmurs, and he watches a tear drops down her cheek and Meliodas sucks in a breath, squeezing her hand tightly. "I tried." Her eyes droop for a moment. "But I couldn't."

"It's okay," he says, hoping she doesn't hear the waver in his voice. Hoping she doesn't notice how frustratedly nervous he is- she always notices. _Why is she talking about this? What had happen to make her focus on something so long ago?_ "We can talk about it later. Elizabeth, can you just rest now?"

"Hmmm," she answers, and Meliodas watches her steady breathing for a minute. His own breath is shaky as a sinking feeling consumes him. He had not felt this way in a long time, the days where Elizabeth would be in danger he had hoped long passed. But she had a knack for worrying him still, it appeared. Finally he places her hand back down, but before he lets it go she squeezes him lightly. "I was scared," she whispers, and he looks back at her face. "Scared that I wouldn't…"

"Don't worry," he assures her, his voice quiet. "You don't have to be scared."

"Scared I wouldn't…" she continues, as if she had not heard him. "That I _didn't._.. I wouldn't get to tell you that I loved you."

Meliodas sighs heavily.

He holds her hand as he leans in and brushes his lips on her forehead. He's disappointed not to feel a fever there as he slowly draws back, only inches away. "It's all right. Just rest, Elizabeth."

"Okay, Sir Meliodas," she breathes. He continues to hold her hand tightly as he sees her again drift off to sleep.

Meliodas watches her sleeping for a long while, glad she is resting but unable to help his growing anxiety. Briefly he wonders if Merlin was on her way yet; sometimes she would take her time, after all. He feels more troubled by the minute. Thinking about everything that could be wrong with Elizabeth, if the doctor was right, and there is nothing physically wrong with her, then he decides it must be an enchantment. _It has to be_. He begins pacing the room before he realizes it, spending what is left of the morning running through every magic he could think of, from fairy to the lost demonic arts. He needs answers, none that he could find here in this room, and he feels the itch of anxiety burning underneath his skin as he turns to the door to leave.

The door opens, startling him, and he stops at the sound of Margaret's voice. "Elizabeth?" she calls softly, a sharpness to her tone even as she slowly steps inside. When she spots him however, she draws up short. "Your Grace! I'm sorry to interrupt, I-" Margaret steadies herself with a breath as she closes the door behind her. "I was looking for Elizabeth. She missed an appointment this morning."

"She's, um, she's not feeling… well." He inwardly cringes, he had forgotten about that. Of course Margaret would come in person.

Margaret frowns, her posture straightening as she steps forward. "What are you talking about?" She walks to the bed and feels her sister's forehead, patting her cheeks even as Meliodas steps forward to stop her, opening his mouth to quietly tell her to step back, only to drop his hands as Elizabeth wakes up. She blinks a few times, the sleep disappearing from her eyes, which he's happy to see are bright and focused again. "Margaret?" she gasps. "You are here too?"

"Ellie, what's wrong?" Her voice is a mixture of sisterly concern and impatience, and she sighs, "We were supposed to meet for breakfast, and then go and see the plans for the new buildings. I had to handle everything myself while you slept in."

"She wasn't sleeping in," Meliodas interjects, but neither girl pays attention to him. "What are you talking about?" Elizabeth asks, confused, sitting up in bed. "What meeting? Why would we have a meeting?"

Now it is Margaret's turn to look confused, leaning back from the bed to stand up straight. "What? Ellie, we went over everything yesterday. Don't you remember?"

At this Meliodas steps forward, moving around to the other side of the bed he takes Elizabeth's hand. He sits close as Elizabeth sends him another confused look, her brows scrunched up in confusion. "That's the problem," he says quickly as Margaret's mouth opens again, already ready to start in on Elizabeth, and he holds up a hand. "Elizabeth is having trouble remembering."

Margaret frowns. "I don't understand." Elizabeth looks away, chewing on her lower lip as she doesn't meet their eyes. And Meliodas notices how she curls her free hand in the blankets, a sure sign she is dwelling on distressing thoughts far too deeply.

"Neither do we," Meliodas says, squeezing her hand. "The physician was here this morning, but he couldn't tell what was wrong. I sent for Merlin to come."

Margaret looks back at Elizabeth, her annoyance now gone, replaced by real concern. "Oh, Ellie," she says, sitting next to her sister. "Are you… are you all right? Do you have any pain?"

Elizabeth's lower lip quivers and she sits forward, wriggling the blankets in her hands a few times. They sit there for a moment as she collects herself, before she looks up to Margaret's concerned glance- only to examine her face more closely. She blinks a few times, even bringing a hand up to rub her eyes roughly. The expression on her own face goes from amusement, to confusion, and finally to a growing horror as she looks between her and Meliodas. "Margaret," she gasps, pulling her hand from Meliodas. "What- what happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" She places a hand on her hair, feeling a bit, slightly appalled by the question before smoothing down the front of her dress. She gives Meliodas a confused look as he shrugs his shoulders, and Elizabeth's cheeks flush.

Elizabeth whispers, "You look so- so old?" She brings a hand up in horror to her own face, feeling the skin.

There is a shocked silence, Margaret opening and closing her mouth, unable to comprehend her sister's blunt, well, insult. And as Elizabeth looks between them, waiting for something, _anything_ , hoping that they would end whatever farce this was, Meliodas' jaw tightens at the confusion on her face. He sees her breathing start to quicken and her eyes widen as she looks at him. "What is happening?" He shakes his head, hating that he does not have an answer, and Elizabeth shrinks in on herself. "I'm not having trouble remembering. I remember everything perfectly fine. I- I remember the maze, and the tournament-and-and I was with Elaine, and she-"

Meliodas simply shakes his head as Margaret huffs in frustration. "I _remember,_ " Elizabeth insists with a puff of her cheeks, feeling even more childish as they send her the same look. "I am not sick! This happened just moments ago." A few tears prick the corners of her eyes and Meliodas feels his chest tighten. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Margaret sit up straight, squaring her shoulders, and he brings a hand up to rub his temple. Could she not see that the last thing Elizabeth needed was to get more upset?

"Ellie," Margaret says slowly, her jaw tight. "Don't be ridiculous. You are the queen of Lioness. You weren't in a maze, or at a tournament yesterday. You were here, at the castle." Margaret meets Elizabeth's eyes, and for a moment Elizabeth opens her mouth, ready to protest.

Then she registers what her sister had just said.

"Queen?" She pulls back completely, appalled. "The _Queen_?"

"Maybe we should wait for Merlin before we continue this," Meliodas stresses, and he rubs his temple harder, giving her a look that Margaret completely misses as she presses on, "Yes, the queen. What on earth did you think I meant?"

"What are you talking about?" she spills out, almost stumbling over the words. "I- I am not the Queen!" she nearly yells. Her hands fly meaningless through the air as she tries to almost figuratively find some sense.

" _Elizabeth!_ " Margaret chastises, but Elizabeth rushes on, "That idea is absurd! I'm not the queen, I'm the third princess. I have never, nor have I ever planned to be the Queen!"

"Enough," Meliodas cuts them both off. "This is getting us nowhere. Once Merlin gets here, we'll be able to start figuring out what has happened."

"Your Grace," Margaret insists, but he holds up a hand. "No, Margaret. You're just upsetting her."

Both of their attention is captured by Elizabeth bursting into laughter. "Your Grace? Your _Grace?_ Really, Margaret, you shouldn't tease Sir Meliodas like that." Her laughter dies as she sees the serious look on her sister's face, the same one she remembered getting during her worse scoldings in the past. "Margaret- you can't possibly mean-"

"Elizabeth-"

"No. No, he can't be." Her soft voice is flat as Meliodas inwardly cringes. "You-you're the king?" She turns towards him slowly, and Meliodas nods. "But… and, If you're the king… and I'm the queen…" There is a pause as they wait for her work it out.

Meliodas shifts in place, frowning as he makes his own realization. Did she really not know? He hums as he leans away, giving her some space. If he knew his wife well enough, she might not react as well as he hoped… or, rather, react well at all.

He watches blandly as her face explodes into a bright red blush in surprise, and later he would swear that he witnessed steam coming out of her ears as her hair almost curled at the ends in shock. He raises a brow as she sputters uselessly, pointing at him while making little squeaking noises. When he finally nods she points at herself, and he nods again.

Then she goes incredibly pale, so quickly both Margaret and Meliodas jump, terrified she'd have a heart attack as she looks a bit faint.

Meliodas opens his mouth, trying to think of some way to comfort her, when the door creaks opens. He looks up in surprise as Ban's head pops out and appears in the doorway, and the man flashes him a toothy grin. "Hey Captain, Merlin's here." Meliodas gives him a flat look as Ban tilts his head at the queen, who was being held up by both him and her sister. "She gett'en worse?"

Meliodas sighs. Well, at least they were here.


	4. Wasted Time

A/N: Can you believe me and Lickitysplit wrote an _entire_ chapter without drinking? In a day?! It started off and we just kept going and going and we were done in a... a _timely manner._ I shiver just at the thought. I was in completely shock just sitting there, unsure what to do for hours. It was like a whole new world. I had to drink to deal with the trauma, before making sure to celebrate with another drink for a chapter well done. Thank god Lickity puts up with my antics.

BettyBest2: I'm so happy you like the emotional stress our lovely King and Queen are going through, we are trying our best to apply as much dramatically dramatic drama as we can! Oh what, uh, no. You totally deserve it, what are you talking about? And I've been meaning to ask, what happened to BettyBest1? Or is it some sort of long, century old Taboo never to be spoken of- cause I love long century old taboos.

Cerulean Grace: Ha! And what a midlife crisis this would be. We're so happy you enjoy their pain, there's so much more to come! **cue maniacal laughter**

Whitangel: Our apologies. We too understand the real pain that is caused by having to wait for the next chapter to come. Sometimes we cry at night, just waiting for our next chapter to appear on our screens.

Mondemutt: Awesome, thank you love. She's... 41, 42? Somewhere between there hehehe.

Kamira: We have some thread and needle, if that helps. But we're probably just gonna hit it with a hammer again this time, so... whoops. Thank you love. It's a good thing we ended that chapter like that then, and not the alternative where Meliodas goes and finds the physician and throws him off an even higher point then he threatened in the first place.

CaptainTwiggy0918: He's got it rough, yep. Elizabeth will never catch a break. And I wanted the doctor to fall into a pile of horse manure, to cushion his fall, before the assistant landed on top.

Inky Finger Prints: That's awesome! Ok, ok ok ok! You're welcome you're welcome you're welcome! YAY!

Chapter Four: Wasted Time

* * *

With her legs hanging over the side, Elizabeth watched from the edge of the bed as Merlin begins laying out books and vials. A giant brown bag is on the ground, and Merlin pulls more and more things out of it; some of the objects far too big to fit in the sack themselves. Elizabeth would normally have been astonished by the magic had her mind not been far, far away on _far more_ pressing issues.

 _King._

Meliodas is the king. The king of Lioness? Her head spins around and around as she keeps catching glimpses of him in the corner of her eye. He looks almost the same; the same slightly messy blond hair, the same way he would sit with a elbow on his knee, his chin resting on his palm, the same hard to read face… but there was still something so obviously different.

He is the king? But… why? This couldn't be, he would never- he- he wouldn't be, he had never made any signs of wanting a higher status in the past! This is _Meliodas,_ the owner of a tavern who could outdrink Ban and Diane and drink the roughest of Knights under the table- but for him to be a _king_?

This couldn't be real, she decides this is it. _The sign._ The way she now knows the illusion has been pushed too far. Blood rushes to her ears as Elizabeth blinks rapidly, like the action would somehow clear away the fog of confusion.

 _Queen?_

That is utter absolute nonsense. What farce is this? Another fact that doesn't make sense! She isn't the crown princess, she was never destined for the throne. She only ever saw herself standing in the Boar's Hat by Meliodas' side. _That_ was much more likely than _here_. She imagines both of them holding golden scepters and doing everything that comes with running a kingdom, and she can feel her ears burn, her cheeks matching their color as she fidgets in place. Together. Them, both of them, together as- a- _a couple_? She almost starts squeaking again as Merlin clears her throat.

Elizabeth blinks. "Oh!"

The room is transformed. There are tables up, shelves full of ominous ingredients and leather bound books, two cauldrons somehow already smoking, and an overall feeling of creepiness in the once bright and normal bedroom. A rather quick transformation that Merlin is quite excited for, by her smile.

Ban sits in a chair on the side of the room, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. Elizabeth looks at him curiously, having never seen him look so… put-together, she decides. He's wearing aristocratic clothing, his usual grin wasn't even there, and as he looks over the items laid out on the table with a nod of appreciation, it's completely opposite of Margaret. Her sister is also sitting in the room, but she regards the mage suspiciously, stealing worried glances at the strange things now cluttering the room. "Really got a dungeon feeling going on here, Merlin," Ban says as he looks around.

"Now, Your Grace," says Merlin as she takes a step closer. "Let me take a gander at you."

She places her hands on Elizabeth's shoulders, moving them slowly down her arms, then lifting her hands to examine her palms for a minute before turning them over. Seemingly finding nothing of interest, she next places her hands on top of Elizabeth's head. Her fingers move along her scalp, tracing in patterns that Elizabeth doesn't understand.

Next, Merlin bends down and looks into one eye, lifting her bangs to peer into the other. Her expression never changes from her typical small smile, but Elizabeth feels like there is something off in the way she looks at her. There is something that she does not recognize behind her eyes… is it fear? Apprehension? She was trying to keep it hidden under her smile but...

"Excuse me, Lady Merlin," Margaret speaks up, "She's already been seen by the doctor. Do you really feel this is helpful?"

"Not really," Merlin answers slyly. "I thought it would look good. For dramatic effect." Her grin flashes brilliantly and she sweeps back to her table, picking up a journal and jotting down a note. Margaret huffs and Elizabeth chuckles, unable to stop herself. But she cannot shake the feeling that Merlin's good nature is all an act, somehow.

"Hmmmm." Merlin turns back to Elizabeth with a soft smile, taking a small pair of glasses out of her pocket and placing them on the tip of her nose. "Your Grace," she begins, causing Elizabeth to squirm at hearing herself called the title. She won't be used to _that_ any time soon. "Why don't you start with the last thing you remember?"

Elizabeth nods slowly and she wrings her hand in her dress.

She clears her throat, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The memories of that time were still far too vivid, and the last thing she wanted to do now was cry. "Gilfrost sent me back to Vaizel. It was empty and I searched for Sir Meliodas… When I found him…" Her eyes go to him as she trails off, and he stands up straighter, gazing back at her with an expression that threatened to bring the tears she wanted to hold back springing forth. " _He was dead_."

Her shoulders are trembling terribly now, her lower lip shaking, and when she tries to go on only a croak comes out. All she had wanted was the chance to heal him, to have him wake up and thank her like he did after the fight against Hendrickson. But… _But she couldn't heal the dead_. She places a hand over her mouth as she squeezes her eyes shut. She finds she cannot bring herself to describe to them what she had seen.

The room is silent as she collects herself, and when her eyes finally open, Meliodas' head is bowed. She notices how tight the muscles in his arms are, despite the casual way he has them crossed, his hair concealing his gaze. He lifts his head and meets her gaze, flashing her a small lopsided smile that does not comfort her. As they lock eyes she suddenly finds she cannot stop her own question. "How? Sir Meliodas, how _did_ you come back?"

She needs to know. _She has to know_. Maybe if she knows, now, then she could-

"Don't worry about that just yet," says Merlin, looking at her over her notebook. "Is that all you remember? Just arriving in Vaizel."

Elizabeth shakes her head, biting her lip as she looks away from Meliodas again. "There was wind when I first arrived, then the air there went so still. I think I must have lost track of time. Did… I mean, was it Sir Gilfrost?" She glances around at everyone as Merlin scribbles something down. "I just met him in the maze, he was able to freeze that giant creature, he seemed like a formable knight. Maybe- maybe he… sent me here?" She trails off as Merlin comes up again, poking her squarely in the middle of her forehead, leaving the finger resting there against her skin as Elizabeth stares at the appendage in surprise.

The questioning continues, and Elizabeth finds it increasingly difficult to keep up with her own answers. Merlin asks if she has had any illnesses, any headaches, had seen or heard anyone, even asking if her toes tingled? She describes for her again everything she remembered from the maze- Diane losing her memories, to the slugs in the lake- and from watching Meliodas battle through the orb, to here. Both Meliodas and Ban watch her with fascination as they listen, but Merlin remains unreadable. She has her walk through the moments before and after she teleported, wanting to know every detail until Elizabeth felt as though her head was spinning.

"Do you think I should have felt something?" Elizabeth finally asks in desperation. "Is any of this even making sense?"

"It's fine, Your Grace," Merlin assures her. "Tell me, did you happen to feel a little pinch?"

Suddenly the memory is clear. "Yes! I felt something. On the back of my neck." She brings a hand to the skin there, rubbing at the phantom sting.

"That doesn't sound like Teleportation to me," Ban says.

"Hmmm," Merlin responds. She tilts her head and regards Elizabeth for a minute, her eyes searching her face. "And now, how are you feeling?"

Elizabeth shakes her head. "I-I feel fine now. Just confused. Overwhelmed mostly, Lady Merlin." She frowns. "Do you suppose something hit me? Or- or pulled me? That I-oh, I don't know, that something-" She struggles to find the right words, looking at Meliodas for help. He isn't looking at her, however, but is instead watching Merlin with a frown. She has so many questions and very little ideas. But the ones she _did_ have, well, Elizabeth couldn't speak them, afraid they'd think her even more insane than now. "What do you suppose it could have been?"

Merlin turns around instead of answering, picking up another book and leafing through it before placing it down. She checks another book, then another, the room growing uncomfortable as the time stretches on. "What day is it?" Merlin asks her, casually turning a page.

The question catches Elizabeth completely off guard. "Tuesday?" she says with uncertainty. "Is that right?" She feels incredibly foolish even asking, and her face reddens in mortification as Margaret barely hides her cringe. Wrong answer, it seemed.

"Do you know what season it is?" Merlin glances up at her briefly.

"S-summer?" Elizabeth starts to feel panic. How can she not know these answers?

"Merlin," says Meliodas, his voice strained only slightly with a warning tone. He leans back, a fist resting on his hip as he raises a brow. "These questions aren't getting us anywhere. Do you know what is wrong or not?"

"Believe me," she says, crossing her arms, "they are all very necessary."

Meliodas' frown deepens. "Well, then get on with it." Elizabeth looks at him in surprise. She could tell he was more than frustrated… he was getting angry. He was hiding it well of course, like always, but he was staring Merlin down without blinking, making their eye contact quite tense.

"You should listen to the Cap'n." Ban says evenly. He shifts in his chair and looks pointedly at Merlin.

"Certainly," Merlin responds with another smile, turning back to Elizabeth. "So how are you feeling now, Your Grace?"

Elizabeth blinks, not entirely sure about the exchange that just happened among the others. "I feel…" She pauses, trying to find the right words. "I don't _feel_ sick. I know there must be something wrong, but it doesn't feel like I've forgotten anything. As if yesterday was the tournament, and now…"

The mage tilts her head. "That doesn't exactly answer my question."

"There's no blank space," Elizabeth rushes on, trying to make them understand. "Wouldn't I feel as though something is missing, if I had lost my memories? As though something was gone?"

She looks expectantly at Merlin, but to her disappointment she simply glances down at her notebook for a long moment. "Do you feel like you are here, in this room?"

"What?" Elizabeth frown, before shaking her head. "I'm not sure what you mean-"

"Oh, you know." She waves her hand in a circle. "Is there anything about this place that seems out of place? That doesn't feel like it should be here."

Elizabeth stalls, before nodding. Her heart starts to race as she thinks about all of the strange things she has seen since this morning. "As a matter of fact… yes." Meliodas snaps back to look at her sharply and she squirms. "There is a picture of the Boar's Hat in my- _our_ \- _our_ bedroom. The castle seems put together wrong somehow. And my sister looks-looks o-older," she stutters as she glances at Margaret with an apologetic look. Merlin leans forward and gestures for her to continue. "Sir Ban is… he seems different. Older, too somehow. And Sir Meliodas seems different as well, but…" She looks at him to try to figure out what exactly it could be, but Merlin interrupts her thoughts.

"Probably because the last time you saw him he was dead. He was dead, wasn't that what you said?" Merlin flips through her journal, humming as she looks for a certain page, before she looked up as though she was reminiscing on a old memory. "His seven hearts were all stabbed if I remember right." The mage peers at the king, who stares back at her with a dark look.

Observing this, Elizabeth rushes on, "Yes, he was-"

Suddenly Merlin breaks eye contact with Meliodas. "Anything else unusual?" she asks, turning her attention back to Elizabeth.

"No no, I don't believe-" Elizabeth stops. As she thinks back, she realizes yes, yes… actually, there was something that was rather _strange_. "Except I… even though I've never been here before, so much is so strange and new, but it still feels _familiar_?"

Merlin snaps her book shut, swirling around to face her again with the same guarded look Elizabeth had noticed earlier. "I see." And it really looks like it too, her face turning to something similar to a cat who just ate the canary. Guarded, but satisfied.

"One last question Elizabeth." She holds her hand out in front of her, her palm facing Elizabeth. "How old are you?"

"Old?" She was asking her such an easy question, after all this? Elizabeth's eyes go wide as she thinks further. Her age? Well, of course, that was simple she was… she was….

Her breath catches, and she struggles. She knew that answer-of _course_ she did. Why- why wouldn't she? She opened her mouth before closing it. And then opens it. _She should know this answer!_

It isn't until Meliodas finally interrupts that she notices her hands are shaking terribly, and she claps them together tightly. "Enough." The bite in his voice is enough to capture all of their attention.

With a huff, Merlin argues, "This is rather important, Your Grace-"

"I don't care." His voice becomes low and menacing, and Elizabeth jumps slightly in place at the sound, looking up at him in surprise. Ban leans forward, his eyes going back and forth between Meliodas and Merlin, who stare at each other, and Elizabeth quietly takes in a small breath. Meliodas he was- he was _glaring_ at Merlin? "This is doing nothing but upsetting Elizabeth." Meliodas starts again, his voice deadly calm. "You knew what was going on after the first few questions, didn't you? Now, do you have an answer or not? I won't grovel for it."

"Damn." Ban says dryly as Merlin returns his gaze. "~Come on you two.~" he hums. Merlin's smile never slips from her mouth, but her eyes are just as hard-set as Meliodas'.

"Actually," she says evenly, "I'd like to hear the answer to my question." Everyone in the room turns to look at Elizabeth.

"Well," Elizabeth nibbles on her lip and looks at Merlin. "I-I'm seventeen?" Margaret gasps, and Elizabeth can see an almost imperceptible flash of surprise in Merlin's expression. She suddenly feels like one of her experiments she works on in her dungeon, and Elizabeth gulps. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Ban start to stand, and Elizabeth whirls towards Meliodas, searching his face. "Aren't I?" she says.

"Double damn," Ban says as Meliodas walks over to the bed to stand next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He purses his lips together. "Margaret, can you take Elizabeth to get some tea or something? I think Merlin is done here."

"I don't want to go and get tea," she insists softly, placing her hand over Meliodas, whose grip was slightly tight. "I want to know what's going on. How is it that.. That suddenly twenty five years has gone by? That I don't know so many things? But I know something about this is _wrong_. I can feel it!" Her head moves back and forth between the two. "Please, Lady Merlin, what is happening?"

"That's not the part that concern me," Meliodas mumbles as he takes Elizabeth by the arm, to her surprise, and pulls her to a standing position. He starts to lead her to the door, ignoring her protests. "I'm not leaving!" Elizabeth cries. "How old am I? What day is it! I- I should know these things Sir Meliodas, _please!_ "

"Elizabeth," Meliodas says. The irritation is clear in his voice as he puts a hand around her waist and points her towards the door. "Just let us talk to Merlin for a moment. Margaret, will you please come and take her?"

Margaret moves quickly towards them, but Elizabeth yanks her arm away. "Don't _bother._ " she says softly, but to her complete mortification it comes out like a shaky sob. "The- the Sir Meliodas that _I_ know, he would not just send me away. And most certainly not like this," she says softly before turning and fleeing out of the room, her sister close on her heels as she quickly hurries down the hallway. Her head was held high, her chin up even as her jaw trembled terribly. That- that- he always tries to protect her! Without taking into account how much she wanted- no _needed_ to be a part of this. Any of this! She had only promised the day prior that she would get stronger, so she could stay and fight by his side, and now… now…

Her foot step finally slow and she looks around. She's is in a completely new part of the castle, and she huffs, trying to decide what to do, turning her head to gaze out of the window.

Over the tops of the buildings and rooftop and tall skylines standing out, to see a very familiar pointed roof in the far off distance. She gasps and starts to hurry down the hallway, taking the steps as quickly as she dares. As she passes by people going about their business, knights walking in formation and maids doing their rounds through the rooms and hallways, she gives a brief nod to those who stop to bow. It's a stark contrast to when she had ran through the same places last night, the entire kingdom bustling with energy.

When she reaches the courtyard, a groomsman hurries over. He takes in her brightly colored cheeks and slightly wild hair. "Your Grace?" he asks in astonishment, and he glances down. His eyebrows shoot up as he notices her absence of shoes. "Is there.. A matter I can assist you with?"

"Yes," says Elizabeth, a bit out of breath. "I need to get to the Boar's Hat. Would you be so kind as to get a carriage, and quickly?"

"Certainly," he says with a quick bow. Moments later Elizabeth is being helped into the back of a carriage by two guards, and is moving through the vaguely familiar city streets as she sighs in relief. Slouching back into the cushioned seat, she smiles to herself for managing to do at least this much. Being _queen_ \- she still cringes at the thought- but it does have a few perks.

When they arrive, she is helped down and the footman tells her that they will wait, two knights standing at attention at the back of the carriage. She wants to tell them to go on with their business, but Elizabeth insteads nods and looks at the familiar tavern. Has it been only a day since she has been inside? Or has it been… longer than that?

She takes the stairs quickly and pushes open the door. The bell over top chimes just as she knew it would, as it always has and her heart skips a beat. At least _that_ much hasn't changed.

"Hello?" she calls into the dim room. The tables and stools are arranged in a new way, but everything just looks so _familiar._ She sighs in happiness at finally finding something-anything- that makes sense and she makes her way to the bar, resting her hand against the wood as she just soaks in the room.

"Elizabeth?!" a voice squeals, the exact same as always and she turns to the sound in excitement, her face brightening. "Oh, Hawk-!" Her greeting dies in her throat, however, when she takes in the sight of her sweet little Hawk.

He lumbers into the room, practically bouncing in excitement as his hoofs click on the floor. "What are you doing here?" he squeals.

"H-hawk? Is that you?" Elizabeth approaches him carefully. Her heart sinks with the knowledge that this is just one more thing she doesn't understand.

He's… _huge_. Instead of looking down she puts a hand over her mouth, as she looks up and up and _up_. His cute little black eyes aren't little anymore as he looks directly at her, and Hawk was no longer the small piggy he used to be. Instead standing at chin height with her, so large he barely fit between the tables.

"Elizabeth!" he squeals, bringing his snout close to poke her on the shoulder, and she squeaks. "Did the building plans go through! I know how excited you were for it!"

"Er- big- you," She stuttered as she pat him on the top of the head, mistified by how she had to _raise_ her hand to do it. "How much did you eat?"

"Huh, What are you talking about-?"

The door opens with another tinkle of the bell and Elizabeth and Hawk both turn. A young boy steps inside, looking around eight or nine, and completely caked head to toe in mud. "Hawk, you won't believe it, so just don't even ask," he says, not even looking at them. He jogs behind the bar with a familiarity that surprises Elizabeth and he grabs a towel, wiping the grime from his face before blowing his nose on it. "Maaan, today has been a trip. Let me tell you."

"You midget sized asshole! What did you do now?!" Hawk roared, stampeding towards the kid who just put a foot out, somehow holding back the enrage hog who was three times his mass as he threw the soiled towel in a random direction. "Eh, is this a customer?" He turns to her with a smile, and with the dirt gone Elizabeth finally gets a good look at him. Her eyes widen as he examines her, dragging his eyes up from the bottom of her knee length skirt, along the curves of her form, lingering for a moment on her chest. He leans against the bar and gives her a wolfish grin as his eyes finally reach her face. "~Hello there.~ I'm-" he blinks, "wait a minute." He frowns.

"You look just like-are you-Queen Elizabeth?"

He gasps in surprise, but his expression does not come close to the shock on her own face. Here is one more strangely familiar face.

"Sir… Ban?" She whispers, looking down at the boy who slightly reached past her hip and he pales, dramatically.


	5. My Time

A/N: So much information and so little time! This chapter is one of my favorites so far, and Lickitysplit is such a nice person when someone holds her hostage and forces her to write- she doesn't even file a police report! I highly recommend her services.

whitangel: Many things are happening love, so many things. All the things. I've been trying this new technique where I write in my sleep to make up time- but Lickity apparently didn't like the additions of the clowns and big foot.

BettyBest2: My most precious lovely Betty2... do I have to file a missing persons report, or will that lead to an international spy assassin coming after us?

Alexandrorca: Thank you Merlin is a hoot! I almost forget that she's a witch- I'm still waiting for the day she pulls out a broom and a talking hat in the manga! Oh Meliodas, our poor poor little short demon. Deep breaths love deep breaths.

Cerulean Grace: Oh thank GOD you're happy about it. We're crying, trying to decipher our own writing is like translating the dead language of Atlantis, but harder. We are so eager that you are eager!

Chapter Five: My Time

* * *

Elizabeth stares at the boy, trying to process what she is seeing.

His light blonde hair is cropped short, the bangs longer on the side of his head. His face was so familiar, in fact, for a moment she doesn't notice that though his eyes may be red, the shape was different. He looks so much like Sir Ban, had he not been half her height and still scrawny with youth, she would have sworn it was Merlin pulling a prank.

The mud covered him head to toe, caked with chunks of grass and small pieces of wood poking out here or there, and his… she was not quite sure what his clothes were supposed to be, under all that filth. But they were torn, as if he had gotten into a serious brawl. His face though, had differences to the elder; with his youthful wide eyes, and roundness to his cheeks and the softness of his chin.

Their resemblance to each other was impeccable.

"Oh EW!" the boy roars, face paling even more as his ears blush red. And he flings his hands up to cover his eyes, howling. "Aunty, what are you _wearing?!_ You can't wear that!"

"Wearing?" Wearing what? She looks down and realizes she's still in her nightgown and robe. Her feet are bare and slightly dirty. Elizabeth frowns, wondering what he means. It was not that strange she believed. And as she pulls on the hem of her gown, Hawk takes another charge to attack the kid. Biting him on the back on the head, Hawk drags him from behind the bar and towards her. Certainly it's not _unusual_ for the people to see her in strange attire, having run down the streets in maid outfits and giant suits of armor, and for a princess to go out in her bedclothes? That wasn't the worst she had ever done. And she is much more covered in this than in the tavern uniform…

Then she recalls she's not a tavern waitress, at least not anymore.

"My _eyes_!" he whines as he plops down in a seat, leaving a trail of mud over everything.

Now this was getting slightly insulting.

"Don't you dare be rude to Elizabeth!" Hawk stomped a foot, and Elizabeth squeaked in surprise when it rattles the tables, "You've been gone for hours! Where's the groceries and the sale paperwork you were going to get!?"

The boy looked up at the hog, before blinking. "You only sent me out to get bread."

"Don't get cheeky with me!" Hawk pugo-pugoed, "That's right! You should have been back in an hour. At most! So where's the bread? What nefarious things have you gotten into now you Midget!"

He pushes Hawk off of him and straightens up. "Listen, Hawk, buddy pal, I'm telling you. It wasn't my fault." He flashes a big smile and folds his arms. "I was on my way over but then I got to that little bridge that goes around behind the stables. You know the one? Yea, that one. So there were these guys there, and they were harassing people as they tried to cross telling them that they had to pay money."

Elizabeth gives a little frown as she listens. She knows just the place he is talking about, but next to her, Hawk gives an impatient puff. "Go on," he squeals.

"Well, I couldn't just let _that_ happen," the boy says dramatically, replicated a few moves, "So I told them to stop, and they told me to get lost. Ha! So I decided I should teach them a lesson-"

"What?!" Hawk cried. "You _know_ you are not allowed to be doing that. Your powers are-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he cuts off the pig with a wave of his hand. "But what do you expect me to do? Just walk away?" He snorts indignantly. "No way. If I'm going to be a Holy Knight, this is the kind of stuff I got to do all the time, right?" He looks at Elizabeth. "You understand, don't you?"

Elizabeth's eyes go wide. "Uh, yes," she says. "It _sounds_ like you were… trying to do the right thing, at least." She glances at Hawk, uncertain.

"Anyway," the boy continues, "turns out without my spear, it was harder than I thought to teach my lesson plan. My magic was all _over_ the place. One of them had this ability to really knock some sense into ya, which hurt. So I ended up in the mud on the other side of the now broken bridge. But I did get in a couple of good ones." He gave another huge grin at that.

"And the bread?" Hawk asks. "And the money?"

The boy frowns. "Hmmm," he answers slowly, thinking. "I guess I lost them."

"Uh, um," Elizabeth speaks up softly as Hawk begins to shake, his face scrunched up very similar to when he needed to go to the restroom. "Can you go a day without trouble!" Hawk roars as he performs his great ' _Hawk Pork Roll'_ attack into the kid, sending him flying into a table and chairs before the hog turned to her. "I'm really sorry about this Elizabeth, he's getting worse than Meliodas' meliodas-behavior ever was. I'm gonna have to teach him another lesson for sure!"

The boy hops up, rubbing his elbow. "Come on, Hawk, give me a break, will ya?" He turns to Elizabeth with pleading eyes. "Aunt! Can you tell him to lay off?"

She clears her throat. "I-I suppose it could…" Elizabeth shakes her head. "Why are you calling me aunt?"

Both the boy and the pig look at her strangely. "Are you alright?" he asks suddenly. He takes her by the elbow and leads her to a stool, pressing her to sit. "What are you doing here anyway? Why aren't you wearing any shoes? Is there something wrong?"

Elizabeth sucks in a deep breath, briefly debating whether or not to tell, when she catches the boy's concerned glance and decides that it couldn't hurt. He just seemed… trustworthy.

Hawk and the boy stare at her for a long, long moment.

"Actually- actually, yes," she stutters, looking side to side, before she sucks in a breath and finally whispers, "I woke up this morning with no memories of the past twenty-five years. I thought I would come here to the tavern to see if anything looked familiar."

Then, the boy gives a low whistle. "Well, you got my story beat."

* * *

The room is silent for a long moment after Meliodas closes the door, the lack of Elizabeth's presence creating almost a cloud of tension in the air. He turns around to Merlin, stuffing both hands in his pockets as he tries to mask his irritation, and he hums. They stood there, waiting for _something_ as Meliodas looks up her. "What the hell was all that?" he snaps. Well he was doing a poor job of it, apparently.

"Finding answers," she says evenly, her face turned down in a deep frown. "Although, each answer seems to lead to more questions." She taps her lips with a finger and says to herself, " _Seventeen._ Fascinating."

"Both of you aren't gonna go at are, are ya?" Ban sighs as he clicks his tongue against his teeth.

"You know what is wrong. She thinks she less than half her age! What aren't you telling us?" Meliodas stares hard but she brings a hand up to partially cover her mouth, clearly thinking deeply. "You really like to push the limits of things don't you?"

The tense silence continues, before Merlin finally moves to a table. Pulling out a box she drops it down with a thud. Grabbing a large bundle of papers out of it, the hundreds of pages as thick as some of her books, bound together with a royal Lioness seal, she holds it up with a grimace.

Meliodas rubs his eyes. "What is all this?" he says, "Why can't she remember _anything_?" he huffs darkly, growling under his breath as he tries to steady himself. He was not controlling himself. Acting like this was not helping the situation or making Elizabeth feel any better. He had decades dealing with her now, this was his Elizabeth, _his_.

Now she knew nothing.

"I know what is wrong, yes. But not why." Meliodas looks up at her, and is surprised to see her eyes wide with anxiety. "And, unfortunately, I don't have any other good news."

She thrusts her hand out, holding the papers for them to see. "These are all the other cases that are completely identical to the Queen. There are fourteen other people. All of them spanning from Lioness to Camelot, all of them suddenly appearing with this condition, and all of them seemingly having no connections to one another." As she speaks Ban grabs the papers, whistling as he flicks through them before holding them out for Meliodas to grab.

"Why is this the first time I'm hearing of this?" Meliodas asks. He glances through the papers, unable to even make sense of what he is looking at and Merlin stalls, for half a second, her entire body motionless. Before Meliodas watches the tick in her hand where she rolls her fingers. She always only does this when she was about to call forth her sphere. A defensive action, which causes his stomach to drop. This has to be bad.

"Because Elizabeth was the one leading the investigation, trying to figure out what was wrong. She had asked for my help two weeks ago. She sent me that." She sighs and continues, "I don't think she wanted to worry anyone until there was something to worry about."

His jaw clenching, Meliodas says, "I'd say we have something to worry about now." He glances through the papers for a few more moments before shoving them back, like the report had personally offended him, at Merlin in frustration. "So what is the plan now?"

"Indeed." Ignoring his tone Merlin starts to pack up some of her things. "I could use some help gathering more information. We'll need to travel to see the other cases, now that the queen has been affected, there's no doubt that this isn't natural. And I need to find the answer." She suddenly straightens and looks over at them. "Shall we call the rest of the Seven Deadly Sins?"

Ban claps his hands. "Excellent! Finally, we'll get some action around here." He gives a whoop as he pulls on his collar, and Meliodas nods.

"Fine then. But I don't want any panic. Just get them here and then we'll decide what to do." Meliodas' words are final as he turns towards the door, suddenly feeling the need to get out of the room.

He stalks out, a hand on the back of his neck as he decides to go and find Elizabeth.

He walks through their rooms, and when he finds them empty decides to head down to check through the castle. Margaret was supposed to take her for breakfast, for tea maybe, to calm her nerves after becoming so upset with him, so Meliodas goes in that direction first. But none of the servants have seen either sister, and as he checks the hall, and the throne room, and even the gardens, his concern begins to grow.

"Where are you?" he mutters to himself. He is about to call for someone to find Margaret when she suddenly appears, rushing towards him in the hallway. "There you are," he calls out to her, frowning. "Where is Elizabeth?"

Margaret gives him a pained look that makes his stomach drop. "I-I don't know," she says breathlessly. "By the time I followed her she was gone… I've been looking everywhere."

Meliodas stares.

Gone?

He sucks in a deep breath, blinks, rubs his hands together, and schools his features into his normal blank smile, trying not to panic. No need to panic. The queen was just gone and he had no idea where. She has no _memories_ , and is sick and confused and _not here_. He could find her anywhere so there was no need to cause a panic throughout the ranks of his Holy Knights. He would simply notify only a few maids and guards around the castle to check around, and he would be the one who ran around the Kingdom looking-

"You there!" Margaret calls a pair of knights passing by, "Contact the Great Holy Knight! Tell any knight who can be spared we need to locate the Queen, at once!" The knights quickly depart with a loud cry of 'yes sire!', too quickly for him to stop, his outcry for them to turn around and come back going unnoticed as, instead, a large cloud of despair hangs over Meliodas' head.

"Margaret…" he whines as the woman just holds her chin higher, and he follows her to hurry down the hall.

"You there!" one of the knights call from the other end of the courtyard, signalling more people and, in what only feels like a few moments, the entire castle is up in arms. Maids rush around servants, councilmen leave their meetings as the word spreads, people checking unused or seldom opened rooms, guards and chefs checking here and there. And it is not long until the _common people_ outside the castle join in.

Meliodas ruffles his hair with an agitated hand, his crown long forgotten, and harshly blows out a breath. At least now they will hopefully find her quickly. And before Hawk finds out.

"The queen is missing!" someone screams over to the left.

"The queen is missing?" another man gasps.

"The queen is missing!" a group of men spread the word down the street.

"THE QUEEN IS MISSING!" a woman shouts from the rooftop balconies down the other street.

The hog was completely going to find out.

* * *

Elizabeth sighed as she runs her fingers through her hair. That shower had been a wonderful idea.

As she worked through any tangles, she was happy that she had the chance to clean up a bit. She felt much more like herself, thank goodness, and more capable of handling whatever was going on. Sitting on the little stool in the bathroom, she'd even managed to find an old tavern uniform, which she was looking forward to slipping on. The familiar skirt felt, well, like it was a comfortable security blanket when she had grabbed it. She hadn't found the same pink shirt but instead a black sleeveless button up top that went all the way up her neck. She thought it was rather cute.

After confessing her story to the others downstairs, Elizabeth had announced she wanted to see if she could find anything familiar, any clues to what has happened. Not wanting to argue with the queen, the boy and Hawk simply nodded, before Hawk threw the kid into the back room with a shout and some breaking noises. Elizabeth had walked around the main room, looking at the items on the walls and running her hands over the familiar wood of the bar. Everything felt just as the castle did; achingly familiar, _but still not the same at all_.

She had approached the bedroom on the second floor cautiously, almost expecting a ghost to appear when she opened the door. But it was empty, the same bed and desk and dresser that had always been there. It had looked as if no one had stayed there for a long time, and when Elizabeth had leaned on the window sill to pop the window out to look outside, a cloud of dust had erupted.

Coughing she waved her hand through the air as she slowly opened the drawers, finding nothing inside. The desk had been empty too, but when she had looked in the closet, she was delighted to find two of the familiar uniforms hanging neatly.

Now she sighs and looks in the mirror. Her face and body are now refreshed, and she wishes there had been a comb somewhere in the bathroom to help her tame her hair. Is is still a bit wild from her tussle with Meliodas that morning, the warm water of her quick shower not helping in the slightest. She stares at her reflection in the mirror, looking for… something.

Leaning in, she gets so close her nose is practically touching to the glass. Blinking, she looks in her own eyes, but sees the same bright blue that always look back at her. Tilting her head, Elizabeth inspects her cheeks, then the shape of her nose. She squints a bit and wiggles it, making a face as she inspects for any fine lines like she had noticed on her sister. Finally she tilts her head the other way and frowns as her eyes travel down.

There, right there… she sees…

 _There are two small holes on her shoulder._

With her mouth falling slightly open, she brings her shoulder closer to the mirror. Yes, there it is… the bite mark from the battle with the Assassins of Marakia. Vividly the moment flashes through her mind: Elaine protecting her, the purple smoke, and then the piercing pain as a poisonous snake clamped its mouth on her shoulder. Elizabeth feels a phantom pain shoot down her arm, much like the one she felt when the poison moved through her veins before her healing powers took over.

But that is not what makes a cold shiver go up her spine. As she stares at the mark, Elizabeth wonders: if it is twenty-five years later, why is there still a fresh mark? She had healed it yes, but the scar surely would have faded _with time_.

She lets go of her shoulder, chewing on her lower lip as she steps back.

A noise in the bedroom jolts her from her thoughts, and Elizabeth rushes to the door and opens it. Meliodas is standing in the room, a brief look of relief washing over his features. "There you are," he says, and she can see that he is not entirely pleased. It's the way he holds himself so aloof that gives it away.

Elizabeth then spies her uniform shirt laying neatly on the bed where she had placed it before washing up. Immediately she covers her chest with her arms, only the thin fabric of her underclothes keeping her bare form from showing. She rushes over to the bed and snatches up the blouse, holding it in front of her like a shield. She can feel her cheeks blushing with a flare of heat.

Meliodas tilts his head to the side. "Huh? Elizabeth, what-" But then he stops suddenly, and grimaces. "Oh. Right, you wouldn't- we didn't..." Suddenly he looks uncomfortable, before laughing lightly, rubbing his neck as Elizabeth bites her lower lip. He finally looks to the side.

"Can you turn around? Just for a minute please?" she asks.

"Sure." He hesitates for a split second before turning his back. As she quickly slips her shirt over her shoulders and starts to button it up, he says, "Just so you know, I have seen you undressed before." His tone is light and teasing, his hands back in his pockets.

Elizabeth nearly chokes, her face on fire as she quickly straightens the black blouse and checks that her skirt was on straight. "Okay, I'm dressed," she says, barely above a whisper.

Meliodas turns back, starting to speak but stops suddenly. His mouth pops open as his eyes go up and down her form. Slowly lingering on her legs, then travelling up her hips and chest as her face combusted at his look, it is only when he reaches her eyes does he swallow slowly, shaking his head. "Sorry, it's just that… It's been awhile since I've seen you in that thing." There is a moment of silence that seems to keep stretching on, until Meliodas says, "What are you doing here? You didn't tell anyone you were leaving. I've had half the castle looking for you."

"I'm sorry," she says, "I simply wanted to-" She is cut off when Meliodas suddenly moves, grabbing her up and slipping his arms around her. He lays his face against her chest, his head pressing between her breasts and his hands moving down, slipping under her skirt. "Lord Me-Meliodas!" Elizabeth jumps while in his arms in surprise, but can't help the flush of warmth that spreads through her chest. And a small smile creeps up to her lips; at least this was familiar, her hands instinctively falling on his shoulders as he all but lifts her off the ground with his touches.

"Seeing you in this… It brings back memories," he sighs as he rubs his hands against her panties, and his face against her breasts. "But please don't do that again," his voice is muffled against her shirt. "Okay?"

Hesitantly, slowly, she slides her hands up and into the back of his head. When her fingers feel the touch of his hair against her skin, the warmth of his tight embrace around her, it's like a jump start for her heart.

Her fingers dig in and, suddenly, he isn't close enough. Her heart races as her hands twist a tight hold on the strands in her fists, and he lets out a grunt. But she can't hear him over the sound of blood rushing in her ears, of her suddenly short and quick breathing. Her skin turns clammy as she won't let go, all but trying to meld her body into his, the sudden need to just hold him is _overwhelming._ She _needs_ to have him warm and breathing and responding in her embrace. The last time she held him so tightly his body was bloody and broken in Vaizel, and the thought flashes through her mind in painful clarity. Elizabeth presses her cheek against the side of his head as her fingers clench even tighter.

A tear pricks the corner of her eye, and Elizabeth bites down on her lower lip as she sadly rubs her cheek against him. And Meliodas' voice muffled as he says her name questioningly against her chest.

Elizabeth jumps, squeaking loudly as he gives her rear a firm squeeze. Only then does she notice that she had also wrapped her thighs around his waist, her embrace borderline _sensual_ and Meliodas looks up at her with a lazy grin. "You were about to suffocate me there," he laughs. "Then again, it wouldn't be a bad way to go."

Elizabeth's breath catches and she manages a laugh, letting go of her death grip and lowering her feet back to the floor. He says it brings back memories, and in some ways, it does; _of course_ , but she could have sworn that she had never worn this shirt before. She blushes as she looks down at him, the man blinking up at her from between her bosom with a glazed and lazy look. "I wanted to come here to see if I could... remember anything."

"And?" he prompts, stepping back for a moment but keeping his hands on her hips, but he rubs circles on the skin under his fingers soothingly, her cheeks staying warm.

Elizabeth shakes her head. "Everything looks so familiar, I suppose, but nothing is quite the same. Except Hawk," she laughs. "I'm sorry Sir Meliodas, but who is that boy downstairs? He looks familiar too… I would have sworn it was Sir Ban if I hadn't seen him this morning."

"Elizabeth, It's alright." Meliodas grins. "It's funny you should say that. That's Ban's son, Lancelot."

"Sir Ban!" Her hand flies to her mouth, gasping. "Ban? Has a _son_?" Meliodas nods, grinning as Elizabeth erupts into a fit of giggles. "I'm sorry, it's just so- _so strange_ -" She is cut off with another round of laughter, and Meliodas watches with raised eyebrows as she waves a hand in front of her flushed face.

Finally Elizabeth tries to calm herself with a shaking breath. "I just realized something," she says suddenly. "We haven't been interrupted by Hawk."

Meliodas laughs. "Well I certainly hope not. We've been married nearly-" he pauses to think a moment, "-twenty-two years."

Elizabeth freezes.

"T-t-twenty-two…" Elizabeth's voice is faint as she clutches a hand to her chest. She steps back and sits hard on the window seat, that was thankfully close as she stares at him in shock. "There's just so much… So much I don't understand…" So many years. That was more years together with him then she had _lived_ , now, at only seventeen.

"Elizabeth."

She squeezes her eyes shut to keep the room from spinning, but then she feels Meliodas' hand take hers with a firm grip. "Elizabeth," he says again. She looks up into his eyes as his hand comes to rest against her cheek. She feels heat rush across her face again, thinking that the blush on her cheeks must be practically blinding. "Do not worry," he says seriously. "We will figure this out. You have my word."

Elizabeth nods. She thinks back to all of the other promises Meliodas had ever made, and he had never failed her. She has to trust that he would fulfill his promise again.


	6. Always Looking Back

A/N: While woundedowl's computer is getting fixed, I've been tasked with writing the introduction. First, let me thank her profusely for allowing me to be a part of this story. After she shared the idea with me, I begged her for days and days to let me have some small role, even if it was just watching her as she typed. Finally, she relented and allowed me to fetch her tea and keep notes on all her ideas. This has been an incredible experience and I am deeply indebted to her generosity. Next, I would like to thank all of you for reading this story. It has come to mean a lot to both of us, and I feel I can speak for both of us that we absolutely love sharing it with you.

BettyBest2: I am so glad you have been enjoying this. As always, your observations are spot on.

CaptainTwiggy0918: Being married 22 years is certainly a feat! Elizabeth is 17, and more information will come in due time, as well as what everyone in this universe has been up to.

Alexandrorca: Woundedowl is slightly obsessive about Arthurian legend, so I leave all of those decisions to her. Please hold your tears for Meliodas, he may need them soon.

Whitangel: Thank you for your wonderful review!

Kamira: We believe a thick plot is a good plot. Just like soup.

Chapter Six: Always Looking Back

* * *

Meliodas holds Elizabeth's hand tightly as he leads her out of the bedroom, her legs still shaky and he makes a very _valiant_ effort not to take another handful of her ample rear. Which just wasn't fair- especially seeing how her hips _swayed_ with each step.

"Lancelot," Meliodas says when they reach the bottom, dragging his eyes away from her thighs, "come on, you're coming with us too."

"I am?" Lancelot, slouching against a table, jerks up at his name and Elizabeth sees that he's finally free of mud, having changed into a new pair of slacks and shirt.

"He is?!" Hawk gasps, dropping a load of dishes from between his ears, and goes pale.

"Sure," answers Meliodas. Shrugging, he pushes open the front door and gives Elizabeth one more apologetic look as she allows him to pull her out to the waiting carriage. The guards seem relieved at the king's presence as he helps her into the back, Lancelot jumping up front, and she sits across from him as Meliodas nudges her with a foot.

They ride through the city's streets in comfortable silence, Elizabeth gazing out the window, and as she absentmindedly rubs her shoulder, she remembers the marks she discovered. She had forgotten about them momentarily with Meliodas' interruption, but now in the quiet of the carriage the realization that they existed, after so many years, weighs heavily on her mind. Why does she have them? How could they still look so fresh? Surely...

For a moment she considers telling Meliodas about them, it would be… a good idea, wouldn't it. But then Elizabeth changes her mind. It feels like the right choice to keep her own counsel for the time being until she can figure things out a bit clearer. It's the first real clue she's had since this whole thing started. Besides, Elizabeth muses, if she tells Meliodas and he doesn't believe her, she's not sure what she will do.

"Are you alright?" Meliodas notices her rubbing the skin and he nudges her with a foot again, and she looks away from where she was staring off out the window. "Oh-oh yes. Of course." she lets go, putting her hands in her lap with a reassuring smile.

It takes only a few minutes to get back, and as Meliodas is helping Elizabeth from the carriage a voice behind them calls, "Captain? Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth turns, surprised to see Gowther approaching them by the gates. His head tilts to the side as he stares unblinking towards them. "Sir Gowther!" she exclaims, and Meliodas raises a brow.

"Gowther, what are you doing here already?" Meliodas asks. "Did you get Merlin's message?"

Elizabeth looks at Meliodas curiously, but Gowther answers, "I've been here for several days, actually. Had no one noticed?"

There a brief moment of silence. "Well, regardless," Meliodas says, scratching his cheek with a laugh, "it's a good thing you are here. We're going to need all of the Sins to help with something. Will you stay a bit longer?"

Gowther does not answer him as he inspects Elizabeth, closely, his eyes boring into her and she stiffens slightly feeling uncomfortable under his gaze. "Is this the queen?" he asks finally after a moment, tilting his entire body to the side as he fiddles with his glasses.

Elizabeth flinches, and Meliodas' hand on hers goes tense as he says sharply, "Of course it is. Don't you recognize Elizabeth?"

"Hmm." Gowther uses a finger to push his glasses up his nose. "She seems different for some reason. Very different from the queen of last year. My apologies."

Meliodas gives a huff, but she frowns, wondering what Gowther might have meant. He only ever did speak in facts.

The king turns to Lancelot. "I want you to take the queen to her sitting room and wait for us there. Understand?"

"Will do." Lancelot shrugs as Meliodas waves off the guards and knights quickly, making their way down the court floor. Their pace is surprisingly fast as Gowther hangs back behind the group, and it's only when the boy starts leading her in a new direction that Elizabeth protests, "What are you talking about? Where are you going?"

"Elizabeth," he says, as he raises a brow in her direction. "I need to find Merlin and let everyone know you've been found. The entire castle was turned upside down looking for you, you know." Elizabeth blushes and tries to stammer out an apology, but he cuts her off with a pinch to her derriere. She jumps. "It's fine. I will come and find you shortly, and then we will talk. Can you just let Lancelot take you there, and will you _please_ just stay put?"

Elizabeth nods, feeling somewhat chastened as she flushes.

Meliodas takes her hand and gives it a quick kiss, but before he can go she says, "Can Gowther come with us as well?" Meliodas looks up at her strangely, so Elizabeth gives him a small smile, and fidgets. "It would be nice, to have a familiar face with me."

There is a moment hesitation before Meliodas nods. "Fine. Best behavior, Gowther," he warns the Goat Sin with a pointed finger before walking briskly down the hall. But not before shooting a sharp look at a group of men who were looking at Elizabeth too closely, and they hurriedly move on.

Elizabeth turns to Lancelot expectantly, and Gowther pushes his glasses up his nose. The boy looks at her for a long moment, the two of them smiling at each other, when he finally jumps. "Oh, right! Yea, ya probably don't know where to go. Uh, this way." He smiles sheepishly and leads Elizabeth and Gowther through the hallways. "Ya hungry or something Aunty?"

"Oh, yes I am." The boy grins up at her with his father's toothy smile, tugging her forward.

Lancelot leads them expertly through the hallways, the maids and servants paying him no heed, and Elizabeth takes the opportunity to observe everything that is the same, and everything that has changed. There are wondrous portraits that depicts different places around Britannia, and she starts thinking of all kinds of questions about her life as Queen, but decides to settle on one about the boy. "Did you grow up here, Lancelot?" she asks.

"Sometimes," he says, opening and door and ushering her inside. "Sometimes I'd stay with King in the forest." Before she can ask any more, he says, "Here we are."

Elizabeth looks around and sighs. Another room that is strange to her. Every piece of furniture is of a foreign design, clearly made somewhere not in Lioness. She takes a seat, happy to see that there is tea and a warm lunch waiting for them and she pours herself a cup, Lancelot plopping down in a sofa across from her. He helps himself to several sweet rolls as she nibbles here or there, and the three sit in silence as her mind returns to the strange pricking pain on her neck. And the marks on her shoulder. She wishes there was some way she could just look inside her…

 _Looking inside her mind!_

Suddenly she places the cup down to look at Gowther. "Sir Gowther!" she says, "I have a favor to ask you. Please, I would like you to look inside my memories and see if you can tell if anything is missing."

Lancelot chokes on a bite of roll, sitting up at her blunt demand. "Really?" he says incredulously. He looks between Elizabeth and Gowther with wide eyes. "No way he can do that," he scoffs. "Wait, can he?"

"Certainly," Gowther says. He sits in a chair next to Elizabeth as she turns to face him, and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. Lancelot leans forward expectantly, bouncing one leg in anticipation, but just before the tips of his fingers meet her skin she remembers something _extremely important_ , and her eyes spring open.

"Wait!" she says suddenly, and he stops. "Gowther, I don't want you to take anything away. Or put anything there. Just see if anything is gone."

"Understood!" He monotones as he hold up a peace sign, nodding as he points a finger towards her temple. _"Invasion,"_ he says simply, and there is a small flash of yellow light next.

It's a pull that… that…

It felt _strange_. She had nothing to compare it to, never having Gowther use this technique on her before. But it was not the way she had thought it would be, not at all. The others made it seem like.. like they didn't even noticed when he used it. Sometimes they were surprised by the fact Gowther had used it at all.

This was _not_ that. This was noticeable. And extremely, confusingly strange.

It seems as though it was only a second, a blink of confusion and strange feelings and sensations, but then Elizabeth realizes Lancelot is holding a hand on her shoulder, and she's again looking around the room. "What did you do? Am I going to have to tell the king about this?" he says annoyed as Gowther leans back, pulling his glasses off to clean them.

She shakes her head as she straightens herself up, shivering off the feeling of energy running across her skin, and she gives Lancelot a reassuring smile. Then she turns her attention back to Gowther. "So?" she says. "Did you… did you see anything?"

Gowther squints as he holds his glasses out in the light, a small cleaning cloth in hand, looking for anymore smudges. "No. It is highly illogical and impossible that there is anything wrong." She blinks at the news. "I found no damage or tampering with the Princess's memory."

Nothing wrong? Elizabeth wants to laugh, jump up and down, maybe even cheer at the same time at the news, a rush of air she hadn't known she was holding leaving her lungs. "If there is no damage, what did you see?" she asks excitedly.

"No, nothing at all," he said. "There is no gap. Your memory is consistent from your first memory to your last."

"And what did you see before this morning?"

"You were in Vaizel, princess."

There was nothing wrong, and just as she had expected it was... It was extraordinarily important news. It could mean so many things- things that Sir Meliodas needed to know, that Lady Merlin needed to know. There was no gap in her memory! She hadn't forgotten anything! Oh, she could hug Gowther she was so happy with this news! This could mean far greater implications than she could probably figure out herself. And before she can stop herself she's surging off the chair and wrapping her arms around the Sin, laughing gently into his shirt. "Thank you Sir Gowther! Oh thank you!"

She lets go as Gowther stays still, his arms held awkwardly mid air after only a moment, and she smiles apologetically. Gowther looks at her curiously, tilting his head to the side.

"What does all this even mean?" Lancelot asks, looking at them strangely. "And why ya calling her the princess for?"

Gowther puts back on his glasses, patting Elizabeth on the top of the head. Three times. A sufficient response he supposed. "Because she is not the queen."

"Huh, what are ya talking-" He stops short, Lancelot turning as he notices just how pale Elizabeth suddenly looks, a thin line of sweat appearing on her brow. "Hey? Ya don't look too good Aunty. Maybe ya should sit down."

"I- I think that would be for the best," she said softly, blinking repeatedly in confusion as she makes a move towards her chair, her vision starting to spin. It was confusing as her hands tremble, and as she holds out her hand to grab the side of the table, her legs buckle.

"Hey whoa! Shit!"

Her head and mind spin as the room goes a bit fuzzy, and she can feel hands on her shoulders as she lands on something soft. She couldn't blink it off, her eyelids drooping and heavy as her vision dimmed into dark pinpoints, but it's the pressure that starts inside her ears and swarms her head that is overwhelming. The longer it goes the less she knows what to do, a heaviness settling against her limbs.

And then she is standing in a different place.

The ground is scorched and full of dust and smoke. She coughs as she brings a hand up to her mouth, only to stop, staring at it in shock.

 _Her armor is back._ Her clothing is back. She's- she's back… this is Vaizel. She is standing in the ruined wasteland of rubble and blood and _she can't breathe_. A coughing fit takes over as she tries to breathe in, doubling over as her throat feels too tight and sore, and Elizabeth looks up and sees him. His body on the ground, the seven swords back in his flesh and her hands fly up to her mouth.

But now he's not lying on the ground, he's in the bed next to her, and she's back in the bedroom in the Boar Hat.

She can see the landscape going by out the window, the bed lumbering back and forth with each giant hog step as Mama Hawk moves them towards another destination. She reaches over to pull back the covers, expecting to see him tied in the cords that Hawk always uses, huddled under the blankets with his head buried in his pillow…

As she pulls the blanket back, he changes again, Meliodas now lying on his stomach in the bed she woke up in that morning.

Elizabeth yanks her hand back, clutching it to her chest.

Closing her eyes, she silently wishes for this to end as her body trembles. Meliodas moves in the bed next to her, mumbling as he sits up. "Elizabeth? Did you have a nightmare?" When the covers finally fall away and he reaches out, she sees he's wearing new armor, his arms and legs covered in metal with a large shirt and black trousers. She blinks, coughing again as the soreness and tight feeling to her throat comes back, and she makes out the symbol in the middle.

It was the symbol of her birth place, Danafor, his clothes torn and burnt and his face bloody. _He's injured!_ But- but why would he be wearing-?

She is suddenly afraid again, terrified, and there is a sharp pain in the back of her neck. A sharp prick, and she cries out as her hands clasp the back of her neck, slapping the sharp sting that only gets worse as her nails dig in, the pain becoming intense. "Elizabeth?" he says again, insistant. "Did you have a nightmare?"

 _"Elizabeth!?"_

Her eyes fly open.

Meliodas is there, shaking her roughly, a hand under her head as he pulls her up and she's back in the sitting room. She's... lying on the floor? The first thing she notices is that she's spilled her tea everywhere, her clothes drenched, and her vision takes a moment to focus completely on his face. And he does not look anything but angry. _"W-w-what happened?"_ she croaks, her voice far too soft. Her throat far too painful.

As she brings a hand up to touch her throbbing neck, Meliodas pulls her up against him in a fierce hug, pressing her face into her shoulder, his fingers clinging. She spots Lancelot over his head. The boy stands next to the couch, his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face as he glances over to the door, which is now slammed into the wall in the king's haste to get in. Gowther is still in his chair, watching them with his head tilted to the side. His glasses now clean.

Meliodas pulls back to search her face, swiping her hair to the side to check both her eyes before turning towards the others. "What did you do?" his voice is soft, furious. His free hand is clenched into a fist as he goes to stand, but Elizabeth stops him with a firm hand on his arm. Her eyes to his, pleading. "It's- it's not their fault," she says, sitting up more, as she croaked, "I asked Gowther to look in my mind. I wanted to know what happened to my memories. I… I must have been overwhelmed." She shakes her head, the images of Meliodas seeming to overlap in her mind's eye. She clears her throat as she sits forward, ready to tell him what they had discovered.

"Gowther," Meliodas growls. "How many times have I told you not to do that?"

Gowther's face scrunches up in obvious confusion. "I simply followed a request of the princess," he says. "Nonetheless, her symptoms do not correlate with that of my Invasion technique."

"The _princess?_ " Meliodas voice rises, "Gowther, what is wrong with you?"

"Please, Sir Meliodas," she says, tugging on his arm. "You must listen to me, he looked and-"

"No." he answers. "All I asked was for you to come here and stay put. I didn't think I'd have to say, don't let anyone go rummaging around in your head." He looks at her annoyed, before turning to Lancelot and points his finger at him. "And I trusted _you_."

"Me?!" he exclaims. "I didn't even do anything!"

Elizabeth frowns. He isn't listening, he is ordering them about! "I don't need someone to take care of me-"

"I said no. Gowther," Meliodas continues, ignoring her, "I want you to go. Now. Find Merlin and stay with her. You are not to be with Elizabeth again, do you understand?"

"No!" Elizabeth shouts, pulling away from Meliodas and jumping to her feet.

They stare off, and it maddens her that the corner of her eyes tear up, as they always did when she became so enraged. "You aren't listening!" Meliodas eyebrows shoot up in surprise, which simply _infuriates_ her even more. "I asked Gowther to look inside my memories. _I did._ And he checked and found that there is _nothing_ wrong with them. I don't have any missing memories!" Her hands ball into fists as her voice shakes slightly, and her cheeks redden in her anger as she continues to shout. "It must be something else, and I keep telling you that there is something wrong, that none of this is right, and you think it's _me_ that's wrong!"

There is a shocked silence as the three men stare at her. Then Meliodas shakes his head and says, "Elizabeth, I only-"

 _"No,"_ she says firmly.

Meliodas face goes blank, before he stands. But the moment doesn't last as Meliodas unclenches his fists at his sides, the skin on his knuckles white. Gowther pushes his glasses up his nose as the two stare at each other for a long, tense moment, and then Elizabeth sucks in a deep breath. Pressing her lips together, her cheeks flush with heated anger, while Meliodas stares back as his eyebrows draw down, his jaw clenching. His eyes bore up at her as he tilts his chin down.

"If you don't even trust me," she continues with a soft yet bitter tone, a shot of disappointment running through her, "then I... I don't want your help." She turns and storms out of the room, and she hears Lancelot choke at her statement as she stomps down the hallway.

Meliodas watches her go in silence, before turning his gaze to the other two. "Told you I didn't do anything," Lancelot says with a huff.


	7. After All This Time

A/N: I have terrible news. My computer, my third love of my life, has passed on in this world. It lived a good life helping me browse useless things on the internet and spent many nights doing things that probably has the NSA very interested in my whereabouts. Blessed it be it's soul for it has passed- I will not be spending half my paycheck to fix it. Amen.

BettyBest2: Meliodas is going through a terribly hard time right now, which will only get harder. Maybe he can finally learn how to be calm and patient after 3000 years, it could be possible, but we aren't holding our breaths.

whitangel: Thank you love! That's awesome too! We can't tell you that sorry!

Kamira: No he is not. I'd give him a C for his 'handling the situation' skills, but apparently I'm not allowed to have the characters hold up score cards in the story. Lickitysplit is a cruel mistess somedays. Without her though I'd be lost in this world. She's my light, by guide. She's so wonderful and lovely and… wait what were we talking about?

Vhosek: Thank you, we really appreciate people loving this thing, it's taken over our lives and it's holding our families hostage, so the more love the better. Sharing is caring after all.

Cerulean Grace: You forgot? That's a paddlin. But we are still overcome by your love, our love, and I'm super glad you like Lancelot. I usually literally brainstorm my characters in passionate rants and texts to Lickity, who finally tells me to stop after the fourth hour or so. I find it ABSOLUTELY FASCINATING that there are legends that go hand in hand with the manga. Don't be too hard on Meliodas yet, he has so much more drama to go through. ***cue evil plan**

Chapter Seven: After All This Time

* * *

Meliodas was sitting at his writing desk, staring blankly at the pile of letters as he slouched in his chair. With his chin resting on his palm he lazily turned another page of.. something, he wasn't paying attention. He had neglected everything from the day prior, and today was no better. The notes and parcels and scrolls and summons were all piled up to the side- which he does not dare look at all, lest it overwhelm him, because he had always found it next to _impossible_ to get anything done when Elizabeth is angry with him.

Or, he hopes she was simply angry.

He taps a finger against the wood, staring at the words on the page without actually processing it. In the time that he has known her, of all the long years they had been married, he and Elizabeth had only argued a handful of times. He could count them easily, and as his mind trails off at the thought while scribbling his signature on something, he thinks back to their very first argument, right after the battle with Hendrickson.

Elizabeth had wanted to stay with him at the Boar Hat, to _fight_ next to him in the upcoming war, but he had told her no. Did more than tell her no, if he is honest with himself. He had tried to stop her in her tracks, already seeing the ache in her eyes to follow, her _need_ , and Meliodas had hurt her terribly. He had believed it was for her own good, and, in a way, he would always think there could have been a safer route.

But- and there was _always_ a but- he thinks about how many times he had told her to do one thing, and she had done another. How many times has she put herself in harm's way deliberately? Run off in the exact opposite direction someone had ordered her to go? Tried to save someone who, clearly, didn't want or deserve it? Elizabeth always acts according to her heart. It's one of the things he loves most about her.

Meliodas sighs, slouching back into his chair.

It is only mid morning at most, how? It seems like so much more time had passed since yesterday. He knows that when he tries to give her an order, she will push back. She wouldn't be his Elizabeth if she just laid down and did what she was told. Actually, he loves that about her too. This time, though… he is not sure if he is doing the right thing. He isn't sure about any of this, and it's an unusual and unsettling feeling for him.

This isn't something he can fight off. This situation is completely out of his control, and he had never exactly been good at keeping himself in check when Elizabeth was threatened; this time was no different. If someone had hurt her, was holding a knife to her throat, he would know what to do. But someone had stolen her memories, had taken them while he had slept _right next to her_ in bed.

His fingers tap faster but his face stays the same, lazily looking at his desk.

The one thing he is sure about is that he has to make this right.

He thinks over the way he has handled everything: from the time he had realized Elizabeth thought he was dead; his reactions to her in the bedroom; his behavior when Merlin examined her; even the way he had spoken to the physician.

Meliodas rubs his forehead, annoyed with himself. His emotions had been up and down so much, right when he needed to be calm and steady for Elizabeth. Then afterwards, the way he grabbed her at the Boar Hat, and then ordered her around when they got back… no wonder she was hurt, no wonder they fought. His own head is spinning trying to keep up, and his chest constricts as he imagines how confused she must have felt.

The night before had been torturous. He had not seen Elizabeth until he retired for the night, choosing instead to have a few drinks with Ban to keep from running after her… or more like Ban had grabbed him by the back of the collar and dragged him off after Lancelot told on him. That prat. He had felt so frustrated that he was afraid, and afraid that he would just make everything worse if he showed up immediately after her declaration…

When he walked into their bedroom that night Elizabeth had already been in the room, wearing her bedclothes and turning down the covers the way he always liked. Her back was to him as he softly closed the door and removed his royal vest, tugging his shirt off. He had wanted to say something, but the _look_ she had given him. He had cringed, as it had been made clear she had not been interested in talking. Or looking at him. Or being _near_ him. Her silence had hung heavily over the room as they laid in bed together in the uncomfortable quiet.

When he had blown out the lights for the night, finally, she had said his name so quietly he had thought for a moment he had imagined it. Meliodas had turned over to her eagerly, only to find her back facing him. "Elizabeth?"

"Where is my father?" she asked. Like she wasn't asking the most terrifying question she had made so far.

Meliodas had blanched. Each time she had asked a question or was confused by something, it had worried him. It made his hands twitch, and this question was the hardest to answer by far. "Your father…" Meliodas cleared his throat. "King Baltra died several years ago."

Elizabeth had not moved with the news. "Elizabeth…" He was completely at a loss about what to do, but then she had whispered, "Thank you for telling me the truth." He could tell she was upset and she was hiding it, he was the _master_ of poker faces, but as he had started to reach his hand out to her, Elizabeth had turned even further away, practically burrowing into her side of the bed.

Meliodas had barely slept that night, plagued by strange dreams, brought on by the silence and being empty of her routine embrace that he had grown accustomed to in these years, and had been up and gone before Elizabeth awoke. He had decided to distract himself with some business, attending to every meeting and issue in person… but this was proving nearly impossible.

A knock at the door jolts him from his thoughts. "Yes?" he sighs, sitting up and straightening the crown on top his head to look more professional, and Merlin enters. "Diane and King will be arriving today," she says, breezing into the room. "I contacted Escanor as well, and he'll be here soon."

Meliodas snorts. "As if he would ignore a request from you."

Merlin shrugs and helps herself to a seat. She plops down like she owns the place, inspecting a carved pen with a raised brow. "Is the queen any more stable today?"

He bristles at the word 'stable', and what it implies, but instead of arguing he says, "She found out last night her father is dead. I think she's sad today."

Nodding, Merlin answers, "That is understandable. Shall we go down to wait?"

Meliodas agrees, pushing his chair back, not caring as his crown again tilts to the side, and they make their way to the informal dining room. He had been expecting a melancholy Elizabeth, maybe even a weepy one. Even a silent suffering version. But what he had not expected was to hear her laughing as he enters the room. He pulls up short, surprised at the sound, and as he walks inside he spies her sitting at the table with Lancelot and Elaine.

He smiles at her as they all turn at his entrance. Elaine smiles back and gives a nod before giving Lancelot a poke, who scrambles to his feet to give a bow. Meliodas grins and starts over-

But the smile slips off his face at the cool expression on Elizabeth's. It isn't full of anger, or tension, but her eyes look at him blankly; and that is even worse. "Good morning," he says, clearing his throat.

"Your Grace," Elaine responds pleasantly, a cup of tea between her delicate palms. "The queen has just been filling me in on the circumstances." She turns to Elizabeth and pats her hand, smiling brightly. "I told her that any help she needs from me, or from Ban or Lancelot, we are happy to give."

"Thank you," Elizabeth says, giving Meliodas a brief but pointed look. "It's good to have the support of my friends." She picks up her own cup, taking a sip as Elaine nods.

Meliodas mutters under his breath as he takes a seat across from them, and he listens to their conversation as he is served. He tries not to scowl into his breakfast, the perfected salted eggs having done nothing wrong.

"Do you see King very often?" Elizabeth asks, continuing their conversation.

"When we can," Elaine answers. "Ban has his moments. Lancelot spends weeks at a time there, learning about the fairy clan. He is to be the next king," she says with pride. "He's gone so far so quickly!"

Elizabeth turns to Lancelot in surprise. "That's wonderful!"

Lancelot rolls his eyes. "Yeah, the Sacred Tree picked me for some reason. Probably because of my amazing physique." The boy tries to flex a muscle, but his young body betrays him. Elaine laughs softly as he looks away, finding his breakfast more interesting.

"It picked you because you will be a wonderful king," Elaine says emphatically. "But he still does have plenty to learn." Elizabeth cannot help but smile at the loving look Elaine gives her son, her entire face glowing with joy and so much life, and she'd never looked more happy. Lancelot squirms under her smile before excusing himself from the table, making a quick exit as both women giggle.

"It must be hard for him, to look so young and yet be an adult," Elizabeth muses. "I would have never guessed he was already twenty years old, he looks only about half that age. Maybe."

Elaine nods. "Our Fairy magic is very strong within him, including youth." She smiles before continuing, "I have been told I don't look my age either."

"Certainly not!" Elizabeth laughs, before the two of them dissolve into giggles again. Then she leans in and says, "You certainly have given up a lot, by what you've told me."

"Oh? Have I?" Elaine says kindly, finding Elizabeth's eyes with a fond, gentle look as her head tilts to the side. "I've had to give up my fairy powers in order to have a child, that's true. But if I was given the choice again, I'd do it without hesitation. Again and _again_. I am with my love, Ban, and I have a wonderful son. So I don't feel like I have given up anything up at all." Elizabeth grins as a dreamy look takes over the other woman. "You do what you must for love. Sacrifice is part of that. If love was easy, then everyone would have it."

Meliodas looks up at her words just as Elizabeth's eyes go to him. Their gazes lock for a moment, and he tries to read her expression before she looks away.

"Yes," Elizabeth brings her cup up, speaking lowly over the rim. "I believe so."

* * *

The meeting is a surprise, and Elizabeth looks around nervously. Although, she supposes it was partially her fault for not knowing as she hadn't really… _allowed_ Meliodas to tell her much of anything lately. They had gone straight from breakfast to here, and it felt like she hadn't even gotten the chance to say hello to anyone.

Diane had all but stormed the castle, King at her heels. She had thrown open both doors to the room, the large wooden structures slamming hard into the walls, and her eyes focused in on Elizabeth like a hawk on prey.

"Elizabeth!" A loving tackle from a giant was still a tackle from a giant, even if she had shrunk down to a manageable size. The Serpent Sin of Envy had squealed, her own frilly golden and orange dress fluffing up around the Queen as the sound echoed down the hall. She had pulled Elizabeth up from her chair and squeezed her tight, Elizabeth huffing in her tight embrace, and before she could get a word in the giantess was talking a mile a minute, the poor woman only able to catch maybe every third word or so.

"D-Diane," King had laughed nervously, floating above them. "I don't think you should be so rough with her right now. Though It is nice to see you again, Your Majesty-" He was cut off again by Diane as she picked Elizabeth up and twirled her around, both women laughing.

King had just sighed, floating towards the others.

When Elizabeth catches King's back in the corner of her eyes when the room finally stops spinning, and she notices that he is also wearing clothing she's never seen before. His outfit is hardly practical, more sophisticated, with a dark green high collar and tight white knee high socks. The outfit reminds her of what he wore in his larger form, just, less _colorful_ , and with his hands held clasped behind his back she dares to call him stern looking.

There are dozens of large scrolls covering the table, and Merlin is going through them carefully. It appears the sorceress has not stopped looking for more clues since yesterday, and as she sifts through the papers the queen had sent to her, piles stacked high on either side of her, Meliodas sits with his chin resting against a fist, staring off into the distance. Gilthunder nods grimly to Ban.

"I suppose we will begin now." Gilthunder, who is sitting next to Meliodas in his full armor, leans forward, resting his elbows on the table as he threads his hands together. His voice holds the authority of the Grand Master and he nods to Merlin.

The room grows silent as they listen, and Elizabeth takes the opportunity to look around. All of the Seven Deadly Sins are present, even Escanor. She watches in fascination as he sits apart from the rest, his giant form barely contained by the fabric of his clothing, and even with his kindly looking grandfather-like face, he's still quite intimidating. He's aged the most of the Sins, and was standing in the corner, silently watching Merlin with a stare so intense it makes Elizabeth nervous. His moustache was even more impressive than before, a pair of small delicate glasses almost out of place on the tip of his nose.

She observes that the others have not changed much. Their attire is different, certainly, and Ban seems to have developed a more composed demeanor over the years while his hair became far more wild; but physically, though, they have not changed. Even Merlin looks practically the same. A tad bit older if she squinted just the right way, maybe.

The other knights present, however, are a startling confirmation of how much time has passed. Gilthunder, now the Great Holy Knight, has lines that frame his face, which had always had a boyish tone, his brightly colored hair faded slightly. With him sits Howzer, who looks composed and _mature_ and Griamore, both of whom had also grown into middle age. They sit with a sort of confidence born from experience, and Elizabeth remembers how her sister also had looked older, and for a moment she wonders why she doesn't show any of the same signs.

Unlike the rest of her family, she had not aged, like Ban or Meliodas; Elaine as well had remained about the same. She knows they don't age like humans would.

How strange.

"You can't possibly think someone _stole_ memories. If Gowther is unable to do it, then I doubt anyone could!" King barks, his outburst jolting her back into the meeting. "People don't steal things that aren't tangible!"

Elizabeth frowns. Who had said her memories were stolen? She opens her mouth to share what Gowther had discovered, but is interrupted.

"Well why not?" Diane snaps on reflex, defending her friend. Everyone looks over at her in surprise. Her statement had effectively cut King off at the knees, him sputtering in place as she sits up a bit straighter. "I mean, this is Elizabeth we're talking about right? If it was anyone else, sure, I agree. But this is _Elizabeth_ , so if anyone could do it…"

They all look at the queen, and she blushes at the sudden attention. King floats above them all, looking at Elizabeth as if he is trying to physically see the difference.

"So we have no idea why Elizabeth has no recollection of her past then?" Howzer says. "She's lost everything?" He frowns deeply. "I've got to say, I have never heard of such a thing. _Losing_ memories, yes. But having them stolen, right out of your mind?"

"Can someone really _steal_ memories?" Diane looks worriedly between the still silent Meliodas and Gowther, who pushes his glasses up his nose, "You said you could bring back erased or alter memories, right? How's that any different than stealing?"

"Because they are not there." Gowther holds up one finger as Diane stares at him blankly, clearly not getting it. "Memories have to exist in the mind for me to tamper with them. Even erased, there is still remnant left to show the damage done. Whatever has happened to Her Majesty has taken a significant amount of time, decades of memories from her without any evidence that they existed at all. I can create imitations to fill the holes until we find them, but unless we retrieve the original memories Queen Elizabeth will retain her seventeen year old self."

"Damn it!" Griamore slams a fist down, furious. "So is there nothing we can do? There has to be something!"

"Like what? You heard Sir Gowther." Gilthunder leans back into his chair with a grimace. "Anyone could have attacked you, my lady. What we need is a plan. We don't even know where to start looking-"

"All of this is well and good," Meliodas monotones with an annoyed wave of his hand, and there is a beat of stunned silence as they all look over at him. "But if someone stole the queen's memories, then it follows that all of these other cases are victims of the theft as well. I want to know who that is."

Merlin nods. "I agree. It seems as though it's the most logical solution." She snaps her fingers and the scrolls begin assembling themselves in a neat pile on the table. "I suggest we each take one case and go to see for ourselves what they have to say. Re-interview all of the victims. Speak to their physicians, their families their friends, and most certainly their enemies. There must be someone that they all saw, interacted with, and if we can find who that person is then perhaps we can start to find an answer."

The others all nod in agreement. Elizabeth looks around, confused, before finally shoving her chair back politely, and stands. "You haven't asked me what _I_ think."

There is a sudden silence as they stare at her. Meliodas goes to stand, but she silences him with a determined look. "I don't think my memories have been stolen," she says slowly.

"Your Grace…" Merlin begins, but Elizabeth shakes her head. "No, please, just _listen_. I've been noticing things here and there, things that just aren't right. If this is my life, then it- then it should _feel_ that way, and it just-" She takes a breath, her words suddenly spilling out in a jumble. " _I don't think I'm supposed to be here._ I don't think I am your Queen. I'm just Princess Elizabeth. I'm seventeen. I was traveling with the Seven Deadly Sins two days ago, and I just _know_ I am. There has to be another reason. There has to be."

She looks at Merlin, whose face is as hard as stone. "Elizabeth-" she starts, and the girl tries to interrupt her, but Merlin says again, much more sternly, " _Elizabeth_. I understand this is confusing for you. But you must trust me." Merlin purses her lips before continuing, "There's more to this than you understand."

"What do you mean?" Meliodas asks, his voice barely hiding the veiled threat.

Escanor takes a step towards him, but Merlin holds up a hand for calm. "What you are feeling… it's what the others have felt as well. As time goes on, the more they become convinced that they are in the wrong place, in the wrong life."

Meliodas scowls at her, but Elizabeth only nods. "That's exactly what I'm feeling. Doesn't that mean-"

"It's a symptom. Nothing more. There are other symptoms too. The victims see things that shouldn't be there." Elizabeth immediately thinks of the bite marks on her shoulder, and her hand involuntarily goes to her collar. "They start to have episodes where they see the past, are convinced they are there, only to return to the present."

Elizabeth's breath catches as she remembers how she fainted with Gowther. But she hadn't fainted, had she? It felt so vivid, so real. She shakes her head in confusion, almost as if she was trying to shake off Merlin's words, and Merlin finishes, "As these thoughts continue, they start to pick apart the memories they do have, until there is nothing left."

"What do you mean, there's nothing left?" Meliodas shouts, slamming a hand down before he can stop himself.

Merlin sighs, the ever present mask slipping just a bit. "Just what it sounds like. They lose their memories, their identities. They lose their minds." She looks straight at Elizabeth. "It happens faster the more years they lose. Twenty-five years… no one has lost that many."

* * *

It is hours later, closer to dinner, when Meliodas is fiddling with the cuff of his shirt that he decides he needs to check on her. A group of servants had just left his study, the king choosing to work through the afternoon.

The look on Elizabeth's face as she learned her possible fate had haunted him all afternoon. She had gone pale, the fire inside her that flared as she had commanded the room all but been snuffed out. She did not want any consolation though, and had simply left, saying she needed to think as she rushed out the room.

But he needs to just see she's alright. Even if it's for a moment, he is afraid that she is upset and crying, and he wants to be there for her. Most of all, he wants her to _want_ him to be there. He decides to check, even if she orders him gone the moment she sees him. There's a click as he puts his crown down to rest on the side of his desk, a rack of unopened sealed parchments still to be read, but of no importance. He had always put them second to his family.

However, he is surprised when he reaches their room and finds it empty.

He checks the balcony, but that's empty too. Meliodas growls; has he lost her _again?_ He had even posted maids in the hallway leading out to keep an eye out! But, before he can go outside the room he hears a noise from the closet. A shuffle. He steps to the door and opens it silently, to the room attached to theirs, the walls lined with clothes. He walks through, spying familiar silver hair behind a rack of dresses.

Peering around, he sees Elizabeth sitting on the floor, next to a huge white wedding gown that is spread out next to her and sprawled across her lap. Her fingers gently trace along the delicate lace and beading on the dress, pausing to smooth an imaginary wrinkle in the skirt. She sighs heavily, lifting up a delicate sleeve, and he breathes his own sigh of relief to see she is not as upset as he had feared.

Though… he does not like the look she has now, either.

"Elizabeth?" he says softly. "Are you alright?"

She does not look up at him, instead moving her hand along the delicate embodiment on the front, and her thumb rubbing along the cuffs. "Was this mine?" she asks softly.

He swallows, answering as he scratched his cheek. "Yes." There's a pause, and he tries to nonchalantly move forward, standing closer, and then he must ask, "I don't suppose this feels familiar?"

Elizabeth shakes her head. "No. It's beautiful, though. Just- just what I would have-I mean, I suppose it was what I wanted." She chuckles humorlessly. "Was it a nice wedding?"

Meliodas moves down next to her, sitting the opposite way so he can face her. "It was beautiful," he says with a smile. "It was here, off in the flower garden. Margaret planned most of it, of course, but it was much simpler than her lavish one. You somehow managed to keep her in check." He draws one knee up and rests his arm across it, thinking back to that wonderful day. A lopsided grin forms as he stares off. "We had all of our friends here, and after the ceremony there was a party with food and drinking and dancing. We went until the sun came up. Ban and I must have drank the entire Liones distillery!" He laughs, remembering the antics of the others as the night wore on, as they celebrated not only their marriage, but the prosperity of Lioness. Of their lives and of their adventures, together.

Elizabeth smiles softly, playing with a button on the dress. "It sounds like it was wonderful," she murmurs, and he chuckles.

"You looked beautiful," he says wistfully. "Your hair was up, you had this… and your _dress_ … I never saw anything so wonderful as you." He gives her a lopsided grin as he keeps trailing off, laughing in embarrassment, and a small red tint appears on his cheeks. "But you were so happy to take off this dress at the end of the night!"

Elizabeth looks up at him sharply, blushing and Meliodas gives another laugh. "I didn't mean it like that-well, actually, that too." He gives her a roughish look as she squeaks, holding the gown to her chest as he wiggles his brows.

She gives her own breathless laugh, biting her lower lip as her eyes drop shyly, and the blush creeps further along her face and down her neck. "It sounds as though we were happy." Elizabeth slides her fingers across the back of her left hand, the red of her cheeks almost glowing as she remembers how Meliodas had kissed the back of her hand so gently there, just the other day, in the courtyard.

"We still are, you know."

She peers up at him out of the corner of her eye, her lower lip slipping out of her teeth. A slow smile takes over her face as he grins so brightly at her. Like he doesn't have a bother in this world.

And maybe he didn't, as long as she did not as well.

He reaches out in a heartbeat, grabbing her hands into his own, and pulls her up against him. Elizabeth gives no resistance, already overwhelmed by the blatant display of affection he is showing her. He situates her partway across his lap, her legs tucked under his own and his arms go around her waist, cradling her tightly against him. Elizabeth looks up at him through her eyelashes, her hands pressed lightly on his shoulders, and her heart is beating rapidly in her throat. She shudders as he rests the side of his face against her forehead, and Meliodas is glad to finally be able to hold her, to comfort her in some way.

"I'm so sorry," he says fiercely, and Elizabeth nods, sagging against him as the rest of her tension simply fades from her frame. Meliodas turns his head and kisses her forehead before dipping his mouth down towards her ear. Her entire face is a bright red hue. "We are going to figure this out," he whispers insistently. "We will get through this."

Elizabeth can only nod again, rather unable to speak as her fingers tremble against his shirt. Pressing her forehead against his cheek, she takes a shaky breath. He skims his lips along the slope of her neck, brushing a kiss where it meets her shoulder, and a full body shiver makes her gasp softly, her hands tightening in his shirt. He moves his mouth slowly, cautiously back up the side of her neck until he reaches her jaw.

She sucks in a little breath as he stills, her heart pounding so hard it shakes her chest and rattles his own, and then she tilts her head back, meeting his eyes with hers. And when her hand moves from his shoulder to tentatively cup his cheek…

Meliodas dives towards her, crushing his mouth to hers as he presses her firmly against him. Elizabeth gives a small gasp, almost a whimper between his lips and his teeth as he moves, sucking before slanting over them, deepening the kiss with a groan. Meliodas squeezes her waist tightly, breathing a sigh of relief through his nose as he pours his love, his concern, his anxiety since her sudden change into this kiss that brings his wife panting heavily against him. Her hand moves from his cheek, sliding shakingly back to grab a firm hold of his hair, her nails dragging against his scalp before _clinging_ , and as he dips his tongue along her mouth he moves one hand down around her hip, curling his fingers around her slim body to rest closer to her inner thigh. It's then that he feels her seize up against him.

For a moment, he stills.

Then curses himself.

He pulls his mouth from hers reluctantly, gently moving his hand back around to the small of her back so not to startle her, and he looks down at her. Worriedly he watches as Elizabeth gazes up at him, half in a daze, trying to catch her breath. "I'm-I'm sorry, Elizabeth." he whispers, realizing that even though this may have been the thousandth time he has kissed her, to Elizabeth, this was…. He thinks briefly back and grimaces. _Was this the first time for her?_

"Hmmm?" Her eyes are glazed over, her lips still parted, and he doubts she'd even heard him as she huffs breath after breath. She hasn't let go of her stranglehold grasp of his shirt, but her fingers in his hair slowly slide free to rest on the nape of his neck, limply. Well, it looks like he still has it. He chuckles as he holds her closer, pressing his cheek against her burning one.

"Where is everyone?" They are suddenly interrupted by a voice, and both turn towards the sound.

Elizabeth shrieks in surprise, tripping as she tries to stand; and as she tumbles back, knocking into a rack of clothing that tumbles down around them, Meliodas springs forward to catch her before she hits the ground. "Elizabeth! Are you alright?"

"There's-there's-" Her eyes go over his shoulder, a large luxurious red dress falling onto of them as another thumps to the floor, and she's staring wide-eyed at the man standing in the doorway to the closet. "There's two of you," she whispers. It is Meliodas, a _second_ Meliodas, nearly identical in every way, except his hair is a different shade of blonde, so light it's nearly silver.


	8. A Close Encounter

A/N: GOOD NEWS EVERYONE! My new wonderful computer has arrived, and it is glorious. This chapter was absolutely fun to write, let me tell you. My lovely most beautifully most mature Lickitysplit was under the influence of wonderful fruity martinis for most of this chapter for once, the first scene was a trip, which means I was the designated driver instead of the other way around. Me? Yes me. It's never been a good idea to have me as the voice of reason.

CaptainTwiggy0928: My love, may I just say I want to marry your user name. We are very happy you are happy that they are happy. This story is packed full of things and there is no time for this "take it slow" business, and we blew your mind? That's great!

BettyBest2: Yes, Elizabeth had it rough last chapter. We were a bit worried about introducing Elaine into the story, but then we thought, if the readers don't like her, she could always die again. (Shrugs) She's apparently on a roll with the whole dying thing lately.

SirenEye91: Why does everyone have these awesome usernames? What memo did I miss? We are so happy that you are super excited, and your needs are very close to mine. This is good we can work with this! Hahaha

Cerulean Grace: You may have privately PM'd me about this review, but it is still absolutely funny to read it. Estarossa? You think I would have Estarossa just wondering around, I love you love. We am so glad you are hooked on this story.

Vhosek: This chapter will hopefully heal the harsh wounds on her heart, my dear. Thank you, we are literally murdering our laptops to get this done! We are so glad you like this story!

Kristine: FINE FINE!

Chapter eight: A Close Encounter

* * *

Meliodas shot out a hand, grabbing hold of his wife's waist to steady her, but Elizabeth is far too busy staring at the man in the doorway. He looks down as she sputters, noticing her white knuckled grip on his forearm as her other hand clasps over her mouth, and he can see her mind racing, her eyes rapidly going over the young man's features before snapping back to stare at his own face.

"Elizabeth?"

Her chest heaves as his lips tingle, and her eyes keep shooting back and forth between the two again and again. A small shiver shakes her frame, her shoulder quaking, and finally she can whisper, "I- I'm sorry," she says as he places her back on shaky feet. "You just look so… _so much alike_ …" Her head swivels to Meliodas, who is looking at her with deep concern. "You look so much alike, you could be brothers." She grips his arm, her fingers tightening with fear.

"Oh," Meliodas says, before startling. _"Oh,"_ his eyes wide with understanding. "No, Elizabeth. There's no need to worry."

Right. He should have thought of that.

He is going to have to think in past tense for awhile. Back… Twenty five years. A grimace shoots across his face for a moment, the face of Zeldris flashing across his mind before he hides it, keeping a hand on her waist as she opens her mouth, then closes it, and then opens it again.

He had not wanted this. He most certainly did not want to do this, and he knows he has a million reasons not to; he can make up twenty on the top of his head right this moment. Not even regarding the dire warnings Merlin- that old witch- had given him topped his first ten reasons, and he could always give a quick, simple, and absolute reasonably believable lie-

"Then who...?" Elizabeth turns her head to look at each of them again, her brow creasing, before she looks at him directly with those blue eyes, and damn it, he is not going to be able to lie.

"Alright," He watches her for a moment more, before scratching the back of his head. "Well, you would have learned about this eventually." He waves a casual hands towards the other man as he taps a foot, smiling brightly to help, and he does a small mental cheer as Elizabeth takes note of his reaction, relaxing even just the _smallest_ bit. She watches as the other man steps closer, her eyes obviously roaming over every little thing about him; from how they have the same height to the same build and muscle mass and face and… he really hadn't thought this entire situation through.

"Elizabeth, this is Tristan. Tristan, this is Elizabeth, and she has no clue who you are. Behave." He makes the entire situation light and easy, as little tension as possible. Good. This was good, it would be like he was introducing two normal people, not two of the most important people in his life.

He could handle this.

"I didn't mean to startle you." Tristan crosses his arms over his chest as he gives a small bow, a little tilt of the head as he smiles. He is wearing a black sleeveless shirt, shin length brown pants that were tucked into a pair of metal armor plated boots, and one metal arm guard on his right arm, reaching his elbow. His left shoulder was bare of any tattoo, and she looks up from it as he gives her a warm smile, almost identical to Meliodas' own, before turning towards the King with a frown. "I heard from Hawk. Or more like, I got screamed at by Hawk. Wasn't expecting any of this after only being away for half a year."

"All the important things happen when you're not here." Meliodas shrugs.

A tense silence fills the room as they both turn to look at Elizabeth in sync, making her jump. Meliodas barely has time to take note of the flicker of annoyance that goes through her eyes, before a rapid fire montage of emotions spanning from fear to confusion to wonder makes him squeeze his hand resting on her waist slightly.

Elizabeth blinks.

"So, you're related?" she tries again softly, frowning, and Meliodas nods as Tristan shifts uncomfortably beside him. The silver haired man clearly does not know how to handle this, her blank unknowing look, and was now in a similar position he himself could remember from the day prior.

He can handle this.

"Elizabeth, Tristan is our son." Meliodas braces himself, wondering if she would faint or scream or fall to the ground. To his surprise, she does none of those things. Her face is strangely serene; except for her eyes, which had widened in panic and surprise. He can always tell how she was feeling by her eyes.

"Our…" she whispers, and he moves the hand on her hip to her back, pressing firmly to steady her. Elizabeth looks at him and opens her mouth to speak before promptly closing it again. Her gaze shoots down to stare at her lower abdomen, resting a hesitant hand there. Meliodas can see as the questions rise up in her eyes, and he's quick to cut off the torrent that was sure to come.

"Maybe first," he points up at the ceiling, and Elizabeth jerks as, suddenly, the room feeling far smaller, "Let's head to dinner? It's kind of _claustrophobic_ in here."

She hesitates before finally, slowly, nodding and giving Tristan a final very long look before walking out through the doorway. The two men watch her leave before turning towards each other. "She really doesn't remember?" Tristan asks, hissing under his breath.

Meliodas shakes his head, before letting out a puff of hot air. "She thinks she is seventeen. She has no memories of-well, anything." He lowers his voice before continuing, "When she asks her questions, don't go into much detail. Keep your answers simple. In fact, just let me answer."

Tristan's brows pull down. "Why?"

"Just trust me." Meliodas leans over to grab his wife's wedding dress, neatly folding it to go back into its box, and he smiles dryly at the question. "We can't reveal everything to her yet, alright? But I need you on my side on this one."

* * *

Elizabeth is staring.

She knows it is rude, but, how could she not? She is supposed to eat? The three of them are sitting at a far smaller table then the grand dining hall; it was compact, having less of a traditional feel and far more homely. The maidservants and chefs had all left, leaving the family to eat in peace, but surely… how is she supposed to lift the fork off her plate with pieces of her meal on it when, across from her, is _Tristan Lioness?_

She is being absolutely rude. Tristan, on the other hand, seems to have impeccable manners. As a princess of Lioness she had met many young princes and noblemen who were rude or slouched or acted like animals. Many were entitled and held their chins up high, even as they made people drop to their knees or starve simply because they could. Being royalty didn't mean someone was just. Her father had always said that manners were the way you could show others that you cared, and as princesses it was their job to care about everyone. Elizabeth can not help but have a small smile at the memory, wondering if it was she who had taught Tristan how to fold his napkin, or keep his elbows from the table.

 _Of course it wasn't you,_ she scolds herself. _You aren't the queen, remember?_

"Elizabeth?"

She jerks at her name, the piece of meat on her fork going _splosh_ back onto her plate, and she notices they're both looking at her. She raises her eyebrows in question as Meliodas continues, "Did you need more of anything?"

"Oh, no," she says a bit sheepishly, quickly picking up her spoon. "I'm fine, really." She swirls around the food on her plate, not exactly hungry, and decides to ask one of the hundreds of questions that have bubbled to the surface since meeting Tristan. "Do we have any other children?"

Meliodas chokes around a potato, and he quickly swallows, snatching his glass from the table. "I have a sister," Tristan offers gently, and she sees Meliodas glare at him as he takes a sip of water.

She turns back to Tristan, hopeful, "And she is…" Elizabeth pauses, her brows pulling down as she tries to find the right way to ask him, about well, everything.

"Yes, she's yours too," Tristan finishes helpfully. There is a thump under the table and he jumps, turning his head to glare at Meliodas, who returns the scowl back at him.

Elizabeth looks curiously between the two before continuing, "How old are you, Tristan?" She watches Tristan with wide eyes, absolutely transfixed, and finally brings her fork up to taste her dinner as the two men have a silent conversation with their eyes alone, and it's actually extremely delicious. She'd have to thank the kitchen staff.

"I turned twenty last month," he answers. There's a shuffle under the table, something that sounds vaguely like feet stamping the ground, and Tristan winces.

"Twenty," she says a bit dazedly, taking another bite of something else. Her son is older than she is? She quickly shakes the thought away before it has a chance to be fully realized. "So you're the same age as Lancelot."

How... strange, but somehow appropriate. That meant Tristan and Lancelot grew up together. She'd have been pregnant alongside Elaine and surely, she had no doubt that Ban and Meliodas had these two boys joined at the hip before they could speak.

Tristan laughs, and she is _amazed_ as Meliodas' voice comes from his mouth. "Oh, you've met Lancelot? I will apologize in advance then."

"Why?" She frowns slightly, tilting her head to the side. "He seemed perfectly nice."

The both look at each other in confusion, until Meliodas interrupts, "Lancelot means well, but he can get himself into trouble pretty easily. You'll have to get used to it over time."

"That's putting it mildly," Tristan says around his glass, earning another thump from under the table. Elizabeth giggles and covers her mouth, and Tristan seems to jump at the sound, putting his glass down hard on the table. He is looking at her differently, and after a moment she bites her lip, wondering if she has done something wrong.

There is a brief silence as they all return to their meals, Tristan looking back down at his food, and then Elizabeth leans in towards Meliodas. "What is the name of the- of my- I mean, our-" She sputters a bit, unable to get out the right words.

"Our daughter?" he says. His smile is kind but his eyes show a bit of pain. "Her name is Lynette. She is a year younger than Tristan, and she is on the other side of Lioness, training to be a Holy Knight."

Elizabeth nods, considering this idea for a moment. Her daughter was a fighter, a Holy Knight apprentice. Which meant she could wave around a sword and fight her own battles. She had always pictured herself having a daughter, a beauty like Margaret but fierce like Veronica. Suddenly she frowns. "Sir Meliodas, where is Veronica?"

"Sir?" Tristan blurts out with a laugh, but Meliodas ignores him. "Oh, she's rarely in the castle these days. She's a Holy Knight now herself, and always off on some adventure or another. I believe she might be with your uncle now."

Elizabeth nods. That does sound like Veronica, although it is strange to her that she would be without Griamore. It's just one more thing she has missed in twenty-five years.

There is a knock and all three look up at the doorway. Lancelot is standing there, leaning into the room as his head pops through the door's opening, a grin on his face. "Hey! Sorry to interrupt," he says, strolling into the room. He has a black eye, for some reason, and he comes over to the table and continues, "Your Majesty, they need ya-hey! Tristan!" Lancelot's smile goes even wider as he claps the prince on the shoulder. "I didn't know you were back. Why didn't ya tell me?"

"I just got here," he answers. His voice is even, still with impeccable manners, but warm. "I thought you were staying at the Boar's Hat?"

"Yeah, I was, until, uh…" He tilts his head, gesturing in a not-very-subtle way towards Elizabeth, and she blushes, quickly looking back down at her plate.

"Lancelot," Meliodas says in a warning tone, before sighing, "What is it you want?"

"Oh yeah, my dad wanted you for something. He's down in the meeting room. The, uh, the big one, I think." Lancelot turns his grin to Elizabeth, who can't help but smile back as he scratches his cheek like his father always does.

Grumbling, Meliodas stands. "I'll be back," he says to her, looking over at the two boys before he stalks out of the room. Pouting. As soon as he is gone, Lancelot drops into his seat. "What'cha eating?" he asks, rubbing his hands together. "Smells delicious." He grabs Meliodas' utensils, immediately digging into the king's dinner.

Tristan chuckles and shakes his head before turning back to Elizabeth. "Is there anything else that you needed? Any other questions I can help answer?"

"Ask me too," Lancelot says around a forkful of food. "I can tell you about _everybody_ in this place."

Elizabeth flushes again. "I'm not really sure… Is there anything else _you_ think I should know?"

"Well, actually," Tristan says, clearing his throat. "Lynette isn't my only sibling."

Elizabeth gasps, but before she can say anything, Lancelot lets out a huge laugh, slapping the table. "Ya didn't even tell her about all her kids! What is wrong with you?"

"All of my kids?" she says tightly, her hand clenched around her fork in an iron tight hold. "Exactly... how _many_ do I have?"

"Just three," Tristan assures her quickly, shooting daggers at Lancelot as he puts down his napkin. "I have a younger brother as well. Jason is six."

"He was your surprise baby! He's at Camelot," Lancelot offers as he takes a long sip of Meliodas' wine. "With Tristan gone and then Lynette leaving, and then apparently you've been working just as late as His Majesty, the little guy's been feeling lonely. He kept wandering off and worrying everybody, wasn't really himself, so you sent him down to Camelot to spend time on a little surprise vacation with Arth-ow! That hurt!" He throws his dinner roll at Tristan as another thump sounds under the table. "What ya do that for?"

"You ass," Tristan hisses. "You ask what's wrong with me? What's wrong with you!" He leans over the table and flicks Lancelot in the ear.

Lancelot howls, jumping up with a shout as he pushes Tristan off, rubbing his ear angrily. "Damn you and your demon hands!"

With one last pointed glare Tristan turns back to Elizabeth, an apology for his behavior already ready. But he draws up short when he sees that she's not even paying attention to them.

Elizabeth sits slumped back in her chair, staring down at her fiddling hands. There is this family, this _entire life_ that she is supposed to be living… it seems perfect, it _is_ perfect, the perfect life she could have only ever wish for. She- she had Meliodas by her side. And a _family_ she had created with these hands? She had everything the both of them may have ever wanted for in their entire lives. So why- _why_ does it still seem so wrong? She turns her hands over, looking at her palms. Is this really her life? Did she use these hands to hold her children once? Did she rock them, and tickle them, and wipe away their tears?

She squeezes her fists tightly, letting out a breath.

Merlin… Merlin had said that this was a symptom, hadn't she. That a feeling of disconnection would appear over and over, until… until she lost her mind. She had to stop herself from focusing on it, stop herself from _believing_ it. Every time this illness made her feel hopeless or confused or afraid she had to… to what? Ignore it? How, when it was this overwhelming?

"Mother?" The word jolts her out of her thoughts, and when she looks up, both boys are staring at her in concern. "What's wrong?" Tristan says, a deep line in his brow.

 _Everything,_ she thinks, but instead she says, "Nothing at all."

* * *

Only a little while later Elizabeth finds herself in her bathroom, her stomach full and her head reeling. She sighs loudly as she sinks into the hot water of her bath, slowly with a shiver, until it reaches her chin. The soap bubbles are a nice touch, the scented salts soothing. She sighs again, sinking down lower into the water until she blew little bubbles, threading her fingers through her hair, and then she pulls it up into a neat twist on the top of her head before settling back against the tub, closing her eyes.

The image of Tristan enters her mind.

Tristan, _her son_. With his silver blond hair and his intuitive glance and how the top of his head almost reaches her chin, even his relationship with Ban's son; and even though she could see Meliodas in everything he does.. She could still see something else. Something _her_. She could barely bring herself to even say the words. She had had a baby, _three_ babies, with Sir Meliodas…

Elizabeth flushes with embarrassment, her body tingling, before sliding under the surface of the water to cool her burning skin. She can not even think about that piece of the puzzle right now. She does not dare risk becoming more overwhelmed.

Instead, she thinks about Tristan, and Lynette, and Jason. Tristan had seemed like a perfectly nice young man. She feels a bit proud of him, truly, although that makes little sense to her. It had been so strange to watch him at dinner, so many little things reminding her of Meliodas, she decides that Tristan is exactly who the Dragon Sin _would_ have been, had he been raised as nobility in Lioness. In a safe, comfortable life without the hardships that brimmed his past. And she finds herself proud of that fact, that she could give her son this type of life.

The other two children remain mostly a mystery, even with the tidbits of information Lancelot had offered. Elizabeth imagines her daughter to be a tall beauty like Margaret, but with a fierce spirit like Veronica. And training to be a Holy Knight? That seems astounding to her, to have two children with such power. However, it is also the tiny, incremental details that are starting to drive her mad, and she runs a hand over her stomach again, imagining what she might have looked like with the swell of life there, heavily pregnant, she decides she must know more.

Finally her mind drifts to Jason… little Jason, who is living in Camelot. Tristan had assured her that it was something that he had done as well when he was younger, but Elizabeth can not help but feel that there is more to the story. Her heart feels a strange ache for this little boy she has never even laid eyes on, and that makes her a bit frightened. He's.. six years old, and already wandering to different kingdoms and meeting kings? She doesn't know what to do when a sudden overwhelming need to find this one child starts, to wrap him up tight, to keep him close.

The door opens and Elizabeth bolts up into a sitting position. Her eyes and mouth go wide as Meliodas enters, walking leisurely through the washroom to open a small closet on the opposite wall. Quickly she ducks back under the water, leaving only her head exposed, as she frantically scoops the bubbles closer to cover her body.

"Sorry that took so long," he calls from behind the closet door. "Ban was making the arrangements for all the travelling supplies for tomorrow, and the stables didn't know how many horses, and then there was some confusion about who was going where…" Meliodas steps back out, now only wearing a pair of shorts, and Elizabeth dips even further down, sputtering garbled words under the water, trying to hide the heat crawling up her neck and cheeks. She had seen him in different states of undress before, surely, as they had shared a room at the Boar Hat; but he had always at least kept his _shirt_ on!

Meliodas continues talking, coming to sit on the side of the tub, and Elizabeth skirts a little away, trying to gather as many of the remaining bubbles as she can. He notices the splashing and stops mid-sentence, looking at her curiously. "Is everything- _oh_ ," he breathes, they lock eyes as her head almost combusts, his face cringing with an apology. "I did it again, didn't I?" Hastily he jumps back up with a small laugh, turning around, completely unsure of what to do. "I just-you know, we usually-"

"Sir Meliodas?" Elizabeth says in a tiny voice, cutting him off as he looks back at her. "Can I have a minute to get out?"

"Sure. Yes. Great." He looks around one more time, "Right, I'll be out in, well, I- I'm going." and then he spins in a circle before exiting the washroom in a couple large steps. Seconds later, the door clicks shut behind him.

Elizabeth can't help the giggle that erupts from her now that she is alone.

She climbs out of the tub and quickly dries off, wringing out her hair before slipping on one of the dozens of gowns that she had found hanging in the closet, a fluffy large gown that goes down to her ankles but wonderfully comfortable. She peeks out of the bathroom door, and sees Meliodas nervously tinkering with something on the side table, his back to her.

With a smile she comes over to the bed, pulling back the covers and folding them, the same routine they had always shared in the Boar Hat, and Meliodas catches sight of her over his shoulder. He smiles, standing with his arms folded as he watches her familiar movements, and when the bed is ready, he jumps in, flopping down face first before he wiggles under the blankets, making Elizabeth laugh. _That_ at least has not changed in twenty-five years.

Delicately she climbs in next to him, the king laying on his stomach as she sits up with her legs tucked underneath her. "Sir Meliodas?" she says as he looks over to her. Her cheeks are still flushed from the bath, her hair slightly damp, and he runs his eyes over her form with a hum. "I have a few questions."

His eyes widen slightly, even as he keeps the mild smile on his face, "You do huh?"

Elizabeth nods, "Yes. I- It was such a-well, it was a shock to meet Tristan today, and I'd rather not have that happen again." Meliodas begins to offer an apology, but Elizabeth waves her hand to stop him. "No, no, it's all right. I know that this is…" She sighs and looks at him tenderly, "This is difficult for you too, Sir Meliodas. And you've done nothing but try to take care of me, but I have not been very understanding with you."

"Hey," Meliodas sits up, looking at her seriously. "I would do anything for you, _anything."_

She smiles and places a hand briefly on his cheek. Gently, she rubs her thumb across his skin, and a shiver runs across her own skin. "I know," she says quietly. It seems almost surreal, how he leans just a bit into her hand.

A moment passes before he relaxes and smiles at her. "Fine, then, what is it you want to know?"

"Can you tell me more about the-uh, the- my children?" Elizabeth forces the words out, annoyed with herself for blushing again, but Meliodas does not seem to notice as he settles back against the pillows. He looks up at the ceiling, deep in thought.

"Well," he begins, "you've met Tristan. He's nearly finished with his training, he'll be a Holy Knight by the end of the year. He's progressing, and that's where he has been for the past six months, out completing his required service." He pauses a moment before continuing, his brows pulling down, shrugging a bit, "He's always been talented, ever since he was a boy. Everyone says he's just like me, and I suppose that's true enough. But every time I look at him all I see is you."

Elizabeth opens her mouth, but then closes it promptly, not sure of what to say as Meliodas' expression changes, and a bit of warmth softens his eyes. "Lynette, now, she is definitely your daughter. She looks just like you, I mean, you could be sisters." He gives a chuckle. "But where Tristan has always been one to please, one to be the best at everything, Lynette could not give a damn. The two of them butt heads over everything. She wants to do her own thing no matter what anyone else thinks. In fact," he stresses, pointing at his hair, "before she started on her training she chopped off all her hair so she could start just like all the other new apprentices and no one would know who she was. She came back home the first day with a black eye and I think you've never stopped worrying ever since." His smile widens, and Elizabeth can't help but smile too, seeing the pride in his expression as he laughs. She lays down under the blankets, getting comfortable as she subconsciously wiggles nearer. He moves closer, until they are only a few inches apart as she facing him. "She's powerful too, even more than Tristan, but don't tell him that. She would do anything for anyone. Unless you are trying to tell her what to do." Meliodas gives her a sly look. "Yes, definitely just like you."

Elizabeth gives a little cough, her heart fluttering in her throat, and her fingers curl around the sheets. "And-and Jason? Lancelot said he was in Camelot?"

"Yea," Meliodas nods as Elizabeth watches, entranced. "You sent him there not long ago, actually. He's been there for four days, although I don't know why, you didn't want to wait until he was ten like Tristan was to meet Arthur. He's a quiet boy, a bit shy, except around his brother and sister. They both bring him out of his shell. Those two…" He trails off as Elizabeth rests her head against her pillows, any tension she had left fading away as Meliodas trails off. But she keeps her eyes open, as focused as she could on the conversation. "Those two, they have a bad _tendency_ to get pretty protective of him. He hates conflict, or seeing anyone hurt." He gives a small smile. "Once, he and Tristan were out and a storm came in really quickly. They got caught in it, and on the way back Jason found a kitten that was hurt on the side of the road." Meliodas shook his head at the memory. "He took his shirt off to wrap around it, and by the time Tristan got them both back he was sick half to death and already running a fever. But all he cared about was getting that kitten back here so you could heal it."

Elizabeth smiled warmly, an image of a soaking wet and shivering boy appearing in her head, but all he cared about was the life of something so _small?_ "That is very sweet." she whispers, now noticing how heavy her eyes felt, and she fights to keep them open, thinking of all the other questions brimming in her mind.

"It was. But do you know what the strangest part was?" Elizabeth shakes her head slightly, as Meliodas intertwined their legs under the covers. "...By the time they got back, the kitten was already healed."

Her eyes snap open, and Meliodas stretches his arms back behind his head as her mouth drops open in surprise. He chuckles. "Yeah, it's something really. All three of them are just like you, and we even have a healer. I barely had anything to do with it. For all I know, Gilthunder could be their father."

"W-wha-" Elizabeth gives a gasp of shock, jerking up before he is laughing and pulling her down to lay next to him. "I'm just joking," he assures her. "Can we go to sleep now? I am heading out tomorrow too with the others."

Elizabeth lays on her side, facing him, and he links his arm with hers. Briefly she thinks about the kiss they shared earlier, and is glad that they have returned to more familiar territory, as thrilling as it had been for her. "I really want to go with you," she says as he puts out the light.

"I don't think so," he says with a sigh. "I need you to stay here and focus on just getting better."

She bites her lip but stays quiet, listening to his breathing begin to even as he falls asleep. He is still acting like there is something wrong with her, that something's been _done_ to her, but after everything that has happened today, Elizabeth is even more convinced than ever that _she_ is the one who does not belong here.

* * *

The next day, while eating lunch with Lancelot and Elaine, Tristan watches the door nervously.

They aren't that far from his mother's room, just down the hall, where they had left her shortly after the king's departure. He and the Seven Deadly Sins, along with the Grand Master and several other Holy Knights, had set out to find the other victims afflicted with memory loss.

His mother had seemed annoyed again. He was not sure why, but suspected that she was upset at being left behind. Tristan and Lancelot had been pulled aside by the king first thing in the morning, Lancelot barely conscious, and been given _very_ explicit instructions not to leave the queen alone for any reason whatsoever. Even for a simple hour, and they had agreed, of course, but his mother's darkening mood in the morning had given him pause. His father had also arranged for her to see the physician again, so when she had insisted that she did not need them to hover, and Tristan agreed. What his father wasn't here to see wouldn't hurt him, and if leaving her alone for _just an hour_ helped her it was the least he could do. They promised they should meet up again for lunch, and there really wasn't any way she could get into any trouble inside the castle, after all.

So when she fails to appear he stands, finally unable to wait anymore as the minutes tick by agonizingly slow, almost to mock him, "I'll be right back. Mother should be by now." he announces going to check on her.

Elaine takes of sip of tea as he stands. "That's a good idea," she says with a bit of worry in her voice, but Lancelot just shrugs. "She's probably just asleep," he grumbles as he helps himself to more food, mumbling about the lack of ale, but Tristan just moves briskly through the castle.

However, as soon as he reaches his parents' room he knows something is wrong. The sounds of clattering and yelling comes from inside, and he quickly pushes the doors open and steps in to find the physician frantically rushing around, his assistant glaring at the now empty bed. "She was right here!" he cries in a frenzy, but when he spies Tristan he freezes, paling. "H-h-her Majesty is gone!" The prince whirls around and bolts from the room, the physician crying after him, "Please don't throw me out the window!"

With a growl Tristan practically runs back to the dining hall, and Lancelot sits up when he sees the look on his face. "What's wrong?" he says, standing.

"She's gone!" Tristan whispers fiercely, looking around to see if anyone overheard. Elaine gasps while Lancelot mutters a quick, "I'm going to get blamed for this, I _just know it_."

"You have to go and find her," Elaine urges them, quickly standing and ushering them towards the hall. Pushing them forward. "Go, _now_ , before she gets too far."

"But where?" Lancelot hisses. "We have no idea where she is heading!"

Tristan thinks for a moment, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "There's been no word from the guards, which means she's still in the castle somewhere. Unless-" His eyes widen as he remembers something. It was a leap, yes, but if she wanted to hide it might work. "Come on, let's go."

He leads Lancelot out, moving through the hallways quietly but quickly, until they get to the courtyard, and they slip out the back without alerting anyone. They head out the gatehouse and around the southern side, making their way through the narrow city streets that run into the castle walls. "Where are we going?" Lancelot protests, but Tristan presses on, running lowly as he hopes, truly hopes, they get there in time as they dodge through the common people and duck around street corners. He keeps an eye out for any Knights, making sure to keep out of their sight.

There is a small alley hidden by a busy marketplace, and they slip down it unnoticed by anyone. Shifting behind boxes and storage barrels, at the end they uncover a grate over a large opening in what looks like part of the castle wall. "What is this?" Lancelot asks in confusion.

"A tunnel," Tristan answers, and then cannot help the small smile that forms on his face. "It leads all the way back inside the castle. My mother used it to escape when she was seventeen, and the royal family was arrested." He flashes Lancelot a grin. "She left the castle so she could go and look for the Seven Deadly Sins. Alone, in a suit of armor."

Lancelot raises his eyebrows, "That was _true?"_ he has a mixture of admiration and surprise on his face, as the two of them sit against the grate to wait for the queen to complete another daring escape.


	9. Time to See

A/N: Today is a fun day. The sun is shining, there isn't a cloud in the sky and I have a wonderful glass of some sort of alcoholic drink, and it only 95 DEMONIC DEGREES OUTSIDE. Lickity was surprised when I told her there were fires springing up everywhere around here, but I keep forgetting to tell her I apparently live like six feet away from the sun. I love nice warm weather like anyone else, but it should not be so hot that when I try to walk my dog she gives me a look like I'm stupid.

Cerulean Grace: This is an important question my love; if you suddenly had three kids, a husband, and some unknown incurable illness would you rather eat an entire gallon of ice cream at the beach, or go eat meatballs at the Summer Olympics? The future of the entire world depends on your answer.

Bettybest2: We are so glad you like him, and we hope you continue to! Hahahaha, keep her contained you say? Is this Elizabeth we are talking about? Oh my wonderful Betty who is most certainly not an _imposter_ I'd like to see them try. **cue maniacal laughter**

CaptainTwiggy0918: Oooh, it's single? This is good news. And we know we say this alot, but keep your tissues on hand, because Elizabeth will not have it easy in this story, and we are a bit (a BIT) evil.

Kristine: Love, I love your reviews, but Lickitysplit is worried that you might be stuck on repeat.

Vhosek: Thank you very much. We are so happy you like Tristan and his brotherly hate love for our resident future Fairy King. Hopefully this love remains strong as the story moves forward.

Guest: We would totally love and understand that you want to draw our characters, Komati, that awesome! But could you give up a return address and phone number, or maybe just an account so we could PM you about your request? Lots of love my love

Sassykitten1701: Uuuh, wow. I was going to write a response for every single review separately, but then we realized that it would turn into it's out short story, so I'll just do one. Ok (takes a very very deep breath) I'm so glad you're curious my love, we am totally not following what you said for chapter five but yes, the others are around, yes maybe on that point but ok no, but yes, but kind of not, thank you my love, he's totally hot, history does do that we totally agree, awesome possum. THANK YOU LOVE **passes out from oxygen deprivation**

Fanficlove2014: Awww, thank you! Yep, we could probably write another twenty stories about those two hahaha! We are so glad you didn't lie too.

Chapter Nine: Time to See

* * *

Elizabeth has to get out of there. She can not stay in Lioness.

She needs to go, she knows she needs to, otherwise she won't get any answers at all. Between Meliodas and his overprotectiveness, the knowledge of her _family_ overwhelming her, and Merlin with her never ending secrets, what is she doing still in the castle? All of these people who are newly met but _know_ her who wouldn't say a word… it was almost too much. Learning more about herself and her life had only made her even more determined to find out if it really belongs to her, if she really is in the right place, living the right life. She must find the truth about her memory loss herself, about this illness, about _why she is here_. And the others look at her like there was something _wrong_.

Merlin had said she didn't have much time. Then why would they leave her here to sit and do nothing?

She suffers through another examination, sitting up straight in bed as the physician worked much gentler and far more cautious than before, sweating through his robes as he flutters around her. "How are we feeling today, Your Grace?" He dabs his forehead with a small handkerchief as his assistant looks on, standing calmly near the medicine case.

"Fine," she answers a bit exasperated, trying her very best to not snap at him.

"Any trouble sleeping? Strange dreams?" Elizabeth shakes her head. "Headaches? Have you been eating?"

"I'm alright, truly," she sighs. "Nothing like that, and I am eating."

The physician moves very close to her now, looking into one eye and then the other, as the assistant pulls out a dark bottle from the medicine cabinet. "Would you like a drought, to feel more relaxed? To- to help with any other symptoms?" The physician stumbles over his words, glancing back at his assistant as the other man pours a large amount of the blue liquid into a cup, just like he had a few days prior to let her sleep in the morning, and Elizabeth shakes her head, holding up a hand, knowing she will need her wits about her.

"No thank you, I believe I'll just take a bath instead." She gives the assistant a smile as he stops, pulling the cup back with a frown. The physician turns a bit red at the idea of the queen bathing, stammering out a quick apology and suddenly makes himself scarce, the other man already packing their stuff as they rush out, which is exactly what she had wanted. She then politely asks the maids to leave, the two women politely curtsying as she makes a show of gathering her bathing clothes herself.

As the last person exits, Elizabeth rushes to the door and closes it tightly.

She sits back down on her bed and counts out exactly five minutes, watching the large ticking grandfather clock in the corner, and while she waits, she thinks about where and what she should go do first. Finding the other victims seems like the obvious first choice, but Elizabeth realizes she doesn't know who they are or where they live, so that task is out. What she really wants to do is to find out if her suspicion is correct; that her memories never existed in the first place.

Suddenly, an idea strikes.

What Elizabeth needed was _proof_. Proof that something happened to _her_ , not her memories, not to her body, and the only way to find that she decides, is to go to the last place she remembers: Vaizel.

Vaizel. Where they had fought and found each other, and where Meliodas died and she-

Elizabeth trembles, both in a bit of anticipation and nauseating nerve. When she is sure that no one will interrupt her, she quickly begins to go through her wardrobe. Hunting around for something useful she finds a long cloak, happily laying it across the bed as she rushes around the room, and a small bag she uses to hold a little purse and some handkerchiefs she comes across. Filling it with the needed things she had on her, she then searches for a more practical dress; instead, she finds the uniform from the Boar Hat, cleaned and hanging from a hanger in the wardrobe.

She pulls it out and looks at it for a long moment, debating about whether to put it on. She decides against it, finally, and opts for a more sensible dress, much plainer and easier to move in than the fancier one she currently wears. At the last second, she grabs the uniform and stuffs it inside the bag. It brings her a bit of confidence, almost like a security blanket, as she cracks open her bedroom door and looks out.

Elizabeth checks the hallway before throwing the cloak around her shoulders, the dark burgundy color not standing out, and she quickly pulls up the hood. To her relief it covers her well, and with caution she makes her way through the castle hallways, hiding in corners and around doorways, keeping out of sight as she takes the less used corridors. She slowly edges to the king's study, passing a group of gossiping maids, to where her father- and now Meliodas- would sit and attend whatever business was pressing. She closes the door behind her with a tiny click, and it is here she knows she will find the little hiding place in the floor.

The room is empty, so Elizabeth does not hesitate to move the rug covering the loose boards. On her hands and knees she searches for the panel, and when she finds the right one it easily pops out. She takes out another, then another, revealing the hole that had allowed her to escape once before, whether it was weeks or months or years ago.

The situation was so very similar, even without the shouts of the Holy knights trying to break down the door, that she is reminded of how scared she was when her father had shouted at her to run, and, thankfully, she is far more prepared this time. Quickly she slips down into the passage, pulling the boards back to cover her escape route, and she realizes then that the rug will stay askew, but there is nothing to be done for it now.

Elizabeth moves on, carefully picking her way through the dark and dirty passage, swiping the spiderwebs off her face as she quickly ventures on her hands and knees. She can hear echoes around her as people move through the rooms just on the other side of the walls that surround her, and she can occasionally hear a bit of conversations or a voice shouting as she rounds around corners or walks under their feet.

However, after a while, Elizabeth realizes she has a huge problem.

The castle has been rebuilt since she last used the passage, and the fact that it is taking her so long to find her way out tells her that she has no idea where she is going. Elizabeth braces herself against the wall, taking deep breaths as she tries not to panic. The passages seem suddenly overwhelming, and she wonders if she can go back the way she came and find the study again.

As the darkness closes in around her, Elizabeth lays her head back against the stone wall and closes her eyes. She takes in deep breath, still careful to do it quietly as the kitchen staff shout in the false wall beside her, the smells of lunch wafting through the cracks and almost instinctively, the image of Meliodas comes to her mind.

Meliodas, in his warm and bright clothing as King of Lioness, a crown titled off balance on the top of his head. Meliodas, who grumbled as he ate dinner with the manner of any other noble. Meliodas who still laughs like he always did, just as bright and comfortable. Meliodas… She cycles through all of the things that have happened over the past few days, from losing him to getting him back so unexpectedly. Her hands clench into fists as determination begins to push back the panic and give her the last needed strength she needs. She _will_ find her answers so that whatever the truth is, whatever might have happen to get to _this_ , she could make it back to him. She could not simply accept being Queen Elizabeth knowing that somewhere, _her_ Meliodas may need her.

Elizabeth continues on, pausing often to listen to the sounds surrounding her, and she begins to recognize where she is in the castle based on the voices speaking and the noises of life around the castle. The scent of food alerts her to the base kitchens, and the clang of metal tells her when she skirts by the armory.

Finally, finally, what seems like hours later, she spies a light ahead. With a laugh of relief she hurries forward, nearly crashing into the grate that covers the hole in the castle wall. She takes a deep breath of the fresh air and pulls the grate open, climbing hurriedly out into the afternoon.

With a deep breath, she pulls the grate closed behind her and pulls the hood down from her head, turning to start down the little alley…

And to her astonishment Lancelot and Tristan are standing there, right in the middle, one with a grin of surprise and amusement and waving at her, the other frowning with a worried crease on his forehead.

"What are you doing here?" she cries out in exasperation, as loud as she dared as people pass by the entrance of the alleyway, and both boys are taken aback by the aggravation in her tone, neither answering for a moment before Elizabeth finally shouts, "How did you find me?" and stomps a foot.

The boys exchange a glance, raising a brow before looking down at her foot, and Elizabeth blushes slightly as Lancelot scratches his cheek. "You've told this story a thousand times. Jason _loves_ that one," Tristan murmurs, still very much worried, "This is how you escaped the Holy Knights right?"

Elizabeth huffs in annoyance. Of course, she was a queen who liked to revisit her glory days, _of course_. "Well, if you excuse me, I have to be going." She starts forward but they move together to block her path, and she stops with a huff.

"But where are you going?" Tristan says, holding his palms up, his eyes pleading with her to wait. "You can't just go out on your own!"

"Technically, she can do whatever the hell she wants," Lancelot pipes up. "She is the queen after all."

"Not helping," Tristan shoots him an irritated look. "You're really not helping." Turning back to Elizabeth, he keeps his hands up and speaks gently, "Mother, let us take you back to the castle."

"No," she answers quietly but firmly, and her son winces. "There is something I have to do." she stands up straighter, her chin held up high as she readies for their rebuttals.

Lancelot shrugs. "Fine, then we'll come with you."

They both look at him in surprise, and he scoffs, putting both of his hands behind his head as he looks at the both of them like idiots. "Look, we told the king we'd stay with her, right? He didn't say anything about keeping her in a castle. Or even in _this_ Kingdom."

Tristan grumbles, clearly not agreeing with him, as Elizabeth hurries on to say, "No, it might be dangerous. You don't have to-"

"Look. Aunty," Lancelot says, only keeping one eye open as he gave her a flat look, "if the king finds out we let you go somewhere without us, he'll kick both of our asses. We'd be dead meat fed to Porky, and that's not even getting to what _my_ family will do. So you'd be doing us a favor. We're coming with you no matter what."

"This isn't a good idea," Tristan mutters, fidgeting with nerves as Elizabeth watches, finally seeing the first real big difference between him and his father as he shuffles his feet nervously.

"Of course it's not," Lancelot agrees, shrugging. "So where are we going?"

Elizabeth sucks in a little breath and holds it, before saying, "Vaizel."

Both men stare, their mouths falling open. "You can't be serious," Tristan says.

"Vaizel?" Lancelot says incredulously, "You mean where- I mean- when that thing that-" He finally lets out a low whistle. "Well, er- All right then, we better get moving." He turns on his heel and heads back down the alley, and Elizabeth tries to cover a smile as she follows.

Tristan watches them before muttering a curse under his breath, falling in step behind. " _You can't be serious_."

* * *

Lancelot had found them three horses and some supplies, and Tristan had known better than to ask where or how he got them, giving Elizabeth a shake of his head when he saw her go to ask. He had given his mother an arm to hike up onto her horse, patting her leg to make sure she was alright before getting on his own, and was relieved when there were no other challenges as they moved through the city. Finally, he had begun to breathe a bit easier once they were past the city walls, none of the wall guards giving them much hassle.

They ride at a steady but easy pace once they hit the countryside, careful to stay as inconspicuous as possible, pulling up their hoods. He is happy he had the quick idea to keep his sword with him, just in case, especially since Lancelot is once again without his Sacred Spear.

It is two days to Vaizel, and Elizabeth keeps them moving at a brisk pace, eager to get there as soon as possible. Tristan admires how determined she remains, only seeing her this steadfast and strong in the courts or while behind a desk, not out here in the unforgiving woods. They had had to catch their own food and bedded down that night on the ground, none of them having brought anything particularly useful with them.

They had to wash in the stream in the morning and had kept warm by huddling the night before, and while he and Lancelot were used to it from their apprentice training, he could not remember his mother ever spending time outdoors like this. Yet despite being a queen- or even a princess, from her standpoint- she did not complain or lose her resolve at all, even offering to help with the food or caring for the horses before they departed.

It was one more thing that was so different from the mother he knew, and the list was still growing. The night before as they had shared dinner together, he had been finally able to put together all the many little differences; like how she failed to correct him for his argument with Lancelot, or how she would laugh at his or Lancelot's silly jokes, or the air of _innocence_ she almost gave off, as she giggled at his biting insult to his brother in all but blood.

He can even say, in some ways, he is beginning to become closer to this version of his mother in ways he couldn't before. She treats him like her equal, her friend, a _companion_ in her travels. He couldn't call it a bad change by any means; she even joined in with Lancelot far more, and the guy had latched onto her like a leech starving for a good story to tell.

As the afternoon wears down on the second day and evening approaches, Lancelot announces that they would be there in two hours. "How do you know that?" Tristan asks him, looking around for any road signs, but to his annoyance Lancelot simply shrugs. "I just have a feeling," he answers vaguely.

Right. _Fairy senses_. He will never get used to those things.

The sun sinks lower in the sky as they turn down a village road, and up ahead there are lights from a tavern shining in the growing twilight. "Hey!" says Lancelot. "Let's stop there and get some real food." He starts turning his horse's reins with a clicked tongue towards the direction of the building, already leading the way.

"I don't know," Tristan begins to protest, but Lancelot urges, "We had nothing but squirrels for dinner _and_ breakfast and lunch. I want some bread. And beer. And more beer. Oh, maybe they have different types of beer!"

"I wonder if they have anything else, perhaps?" Elizabeth stifles a laugh behind a hand, and Tristan once again finds himself outnumbered, looking up into the sky for patience as the two of them already start conversing about meal ideas.

Reaching the tavern, they secure the horses and head up to the door, a little bell jingling as they walk in, and it reminds Tristan of the one in the Boar's Hat. But that is where the similarities end. He had only been there a handful of times when his parent's bar was open for the night, and it had always been full of light, people talking and laughing and singing over one another, the patrons seeming to fill every chair and space inside. This place is dark, and weirdly quiet as men sit slumped over their drinks or leaning in to whisper to one another. There are lanterns here or there for light, but the ceiling is covered in mildew and the floor looks like it hasn't been cleaned in ages. Several more men sit at a large table in the corner, eyeing everyone else in the room suspiciously.

The three of them take seats at an empty table by the entrance, Lancelot thrumming his fingers against the wood as he whistles seemingly without a care, as Tristan looks around, trying to size up everyone in the bar. Elizabeth leans over and murmurs, "It doesn't feel very friendly in here, does it?"

"Nah, it's fine," Lancelot says, grinning. "I've been in loads of bars like these."

He does not want to, but Tristan can't help himself asking, closing his eyes tightly, "When exactly was this?"

"Pfft," Lancelot scoffs, waving a hand as he shrugs. "Oh, loads of times." He doesn't offer any more information, instead looking at the sorry state of the floor.

"Those men over there are watching us," Elizabeth says quietly, adjusting her cloak around her shoulders, before sitting up straighter.

Slowly, casually, Tristan turns to take a look, and there are five men all dressed in dark clothing, huddled around a table and glaring at them. One of them sneers a bit as he looks them each up and down, before he makes eye contact with Tristan. "It'll be fine," he says as he looks away, trying to sound reassuring even as he wonders how Elizabeth knew they had been staring.

But then he remembers that his mother had been a waitress, which is a strange thing to imagine since to him she had always been queen. Not that that matters now, since she is not the queen… or rather, doesn't believe herself to be… _is it possible that she is not Queen Elizabeth, after all?_ He swallows, shaking off the thought and tries to catch Lancelot's eye, but he is too busy looking under the table for something.

The bartender comes around the bar, a large man with even larger forearms barely withheld inside of his tight red leather outfit that shows off his chest, and he scowls as he walks over to the table. Tristan spots him and hisses, "Lancelot!" under his breath.

"What?" he says, poking his head back up over the table.

"I think we need to go," Tristan answers. "Now."

Lancelot stares, before he rolls his eyes. "Will you relax? We're fine. What's the fun of travelling if we don't get to stop in some of the local places? I mean, why else are we in here?"

Tristan and Elizabeth exchange a shocked glance, before Elizabeth rests her forehead in her palm with a small sigh. "We're _here_ because we're on our way to _Vaizel_ , you moron," Tristan hisses as the bartender reaches their table, and all three look up at the hulk of a man.

"What the hell is this?" he growls. Sneering, he shows off the four front gold teeth he has, and Elizabeth blinks, the man's outfit extremely familiar.

Lancelot looks up with a wide grin. "Three of your finest ales, please. Do you have any menus? And might I say, I love that outfit."

"Get out."

Elizabeth and Tristan exchange another look, but Lancelot simply frowns. "That's no way to speak to paying customers, you know."

The bartender folds his arms. "I don't allow children in my bar. These two can stay. You, out."

Lancelot's expression goes cold, all of his usual mirth suddenly gone, and Tristan can see the heat beginning to flare up to his cheeks as he looks down to see Lancelot's hands turn into fists, so Tristan quickly says, "He's not a kid, believe me. He just looks that way because he's uh… half fairy."

The bartender gives a harsh laugh as Lancelot sends Tristan a look dripping with hostility, his jaw clenching, and Tristan grimances. "Right," the man says. "And I'm _King Meliodas._ Now get out of my shop."

Tristan stands and rests his hand on the hilt of his sword, raising his chin high. "Sir, I can assure you, this man is of age. You have my word as a Holy Knight of Lioness."

"Well well well." That bit of news causes the hulk of a man's eyebrows to rise slightly. "A Holy Knight, hm?" He seems to consider for a moment, a wave of hushed murmuring starting around the room, and Tristan nods with a tempered expression. He glances at Lancelot, trying to send him a silent message to just let him handle this, and he seems to understand. Lancelot folds his arms with another scowl, trying to burn the back of Tristan's head with his eyes alone, and Tristan groans internally. Now Lancelot looks like a pouting child.

The bartender looks him up and down, seeming to note of the armor plating on his arm and the intricate sword and scabbard he wears. Even the symbols on his plate armor boots. He nods, and Tristan breathes a sigh of relief, before the bartender says, "Fine, then. Both of you out."

"What?!" both boys cry, and Elizabeth reaches a hand out to tug Tristan back down by the arm, back into his seat, to calm everything down and she is ready to pacify them both with a quick murmur of relief-

But then the bartender turns to her, a sickening grin taking over his face and he sneers, "You can always stay, _my lovely._ " He snakes a hand out and grabs Elizabeth by the waist, his hand large enough to encompass her entire form as he pulls her off of her stool and up against his side. He tugs her up so quickly she can only give a yelp of surprise, and Tristan _moves_.

He grabs her by the arm while yanking backwards, drawing his sword the same time, and he can see everything slowly in his mind's eye: Elizabeth tumbling behind him; Lancelot jumping up and knocking over his own stool as he grabs his mother to stop her fall; the table of men in the corner beginning to rise. All of this happens in the second it takes for him plant his foot squarely into the bartender's chest and send him soaring, pinning him on the ground with his blade against his neck.

Lancelot shouts his name but Tristan ignores him. Standing over the man, he looks down at him as he presses the blade into the folds of his throat, feeling nothing but _utter contempt_ for him. For a moment he can feel a familiar burn as his power reacts, the familiar crackle of heat and the sizzling tingles as the energy pulses and weaves under his skin. "I will forgive you for that, once, since you have no idea who we are. But know that if you put a hand on her again, I will chop it off before I take your head." His voice is neither loud, nor holds any of the coursing anger he feels; yet without him even being aware of it, black flames begin to burn along the sharp edge of his sword.

"Tristan." Elizabeth's voice is quiet behind him.

Her tone is so familiar, the steadiness and concern with just a _hint_ of disappointment that it breaks through the malice that is seeping into his gaze. His back goes rigid, his mind telling him that his _mother_ is standing just a few feet away, and just like that his tunnel vision is gone, the flames retreating. After another moment he steps back, slowly pulling the sword away as he sweeps his eyes around the room while sheathing his weapon, but no one else has moved. Tristan turns to Elizabeth and clears his throat, his tone back to way it was before. "Are you alright?" She locks eyes with him as Lancelot steps back, glaring around the room.

She nods, looking into his eyes for a moment longer than needed, before turning towards the doorway. "Let's go," she says, and he follows her out, pressing a hand against her back. He glances over his shoulder for Lancelot, who is swinging himself over the side of the bar, and he snatches up a couple bottles as stops next the bartender, who his hauling himself upright. "Told ya not to talk to customers like that," he says, and shakes a bottle in his direction before blowing a raspberry. "This is for our troubles."

Tristan growls under his breath at him as they hurry down the steps and to their horses, Lancelot stashing his loot in his bags. "You always have to make some kind of joke, don't you?" he says angrily as they head back down the road in a quick gallop, his mother quietly leading the way this time. "This isn't a joke, you know. You put the queen in danger, bringing us in there!"

"She wasn't in any real danger with us there, and you know it," he says, rolling his eyes to the side as he cracks open a bottle with a satisfying pop. "That guy needed to learn a lesson anyway." he moans in satisfaction as he takes a large gulp, a shiver going down his back.

"We were almost in a brawl in a bar," Tristan says through gritted teeth, holding his reins in a death grip as his horse sweats nervously under him.

"No," Lancelot answers, " _you_ were almost in a brawl." He takes another long drink from the bottle as Elizabeth sighs loudly, and he holds it out to Tristan as the prince brings his horse closer. "And did you have to tell that guy about the whole fairy thing? Seriously, way to back me up there _buddy pal_."

Tristan grabs the offered bottle and throws it into the line of trees, eliciting a wail from Lancelot. "You need to take this seriously!"

"And you need to stop blaming Lancelot for everything," Elizabeth remarks, not looking back as her horse starts to gallops.

Both boys look over at her, and she briefly glances in their direction over her shoulder. "You lost your head in there Tristan, and that was not how a Holy Knight, or a Prince, should behave." her expression is regal as she raises one brow.

Tristan gawks at her, frozen in place, and after a stunned silent moment Lancelot lets out a howl of laughter, doubling over and almost off his horse as Elizabeth turns back around.

The three continue on the road to Vaizel as the sky begins to light up with stars, Tristan's ears permanently stained red in embarrassment. None of them notice the group of men sliding quietly out of the bar and beginning to follow.


	10. Forever Standing Still

**A/N:** Lickitysplit here, once again tasked with writing the intro since my dear Woundedowl is a bit under the weather. I had the flu last week, and I think she was just jealous. But I am happy for the chance to extend my deepest thanks to all of you for reading this story, and commenting so much! We both read and discuss every single one of your reviews, if you can believe it, and have even tweaked our plans based on your feedback. So thank you for sharing your ideas with us, we really do appreciate it!

Also, _thank you_ for giving Tristan and Lancelot a chance, and we are so glad so many of you are taking a liking to the boys. I know that OCs can be a tricky (and sometimes delicate) thing, but we have spent endless hours creating something that hopefully is fitting seamlessly into this world we all enjoy so much.

I am truly excited for you all to read this chapter. It took us only an evening to write, but we've been discussing this scene every day for three weeks. We did almost nothing for the two days before we wrote except talk through every little detail. So please enjoy!

BettyBest2: Our one and only, Lancelot will get his due. We hope you will like what we have planned.

Whitangel: We are actually nervous for Meliodas' reaction, and will be reading the next few chapters through our fingers.

Komati: We eagerly await to see what you come up with!

Hiyomi: I know that Woundedowl is so happy you are enjoying the Arthurian stuff, since she is such a fan.

Sassykitten1701: **breathes** Thank you so much! We too love when Elizabeth remembers who she is.

Kamira: Since you like shifty figures so much, we have some cued up just for you soon.

Fanficlove2014: Astute eye with the red outfit! How did it get so popular in Lioness? One of the many questions we discuss into the wee hours. So glad you are finding this so funny!

CaptainTwiggy0918: Team Tristan? I'm having t-shirts made! So happy you are enjoying the characters, and we love that you have noticed so many little details.

Vhosek: Can you imagine getting caught dead in the same outfit your _parent_ is wearing? No way! We see you are Team Lancelot. The t-shirt is on its way.

Kristine: Here! Here!

Chapter 10: Forever Standing Still

* * *

Vaizel had always been a vibrant town throughout Britannia's history. Being located midway between the capital city and the northwest border of Lioness, it is the last major stop on the road that ran from north to south in Britannia, known as the Great Road. A mountain range surrounds the north side, and as a key trading point in the markets they would provide protection, making it difficult for raiders to attack from anywhere but the south. That had made the village easy to defend from any threats, allowing it to grow into a prosperous trade city. So many travellers went through Vaizel that its citizens were an unusual mix of all kinds of people from every corner of Britannia. There had been a saying in Lioness for many years, in fact, that when one referred to a stranger, it was custom to say, "the one from Vaizel."

That, of course, was the Vaizel of more than two decades ago; now it is desolated. And it is the utter stillness that causes a shiver to go down her back.

Elizabeth had visited Vaizel twice, both times for their annual festival. As they approach in the gathering twilight, she recalls the people and excitement her first time. The town had been covered in houses and huts and shops of all shapes and sizes, and people ran about in a flurry to buy a range of strange items, sell their fabrics and food and trinkets, and of course, to make bets on the upcoming fights. She bites her lip at the memory of how she had spent the first time there: hiding inside Diane's cleavage, having been shrunk down to barely the size of a pear until she was literally placed in Meliodas' hands for safekeeping.

It is a silly memory that makes Elizabeth chuckle soundlessly to herself. It was one of the more pleasant memories, even if it did end with the corrupted Holy Knights blowing up the hillside and causing her to believe her sister had passed. All things saying, it ended well...

Now there are no houses. No winding streets through the mismatched buildings, no men and women and children bustling and laughing and shouting and stopping to talk, no stalls selling fruit right next to another selling swords and crossbows. No bell tower or water mill, nothing. Absolutely _nothing._ It is dead silent, and not even Lancelot makes a sound as they climb from their horses. The fading twilight gives them just enough light to see the road that leads into where Vaizel once stood. On either side is miles and miles of destruction; piles of rock and wood and dirt and things scattered everywhere. The road curves a ways ahead, turning to go into where the center of town had been, and beyond that, a small but distinct hill that jutted out from the base of the mountain range at an odd angle, looming behind it all.

"Hey," Lancelot says, pointing, "is that where…?" He looks at Elizabeth, who stands frozen. She finally nods, her eyes transfixed on the structure; the flat top of the hill unmistakable, having once served as the arena for the fighting festival.

"Are you alright?" Tristan's hand is on her arm, and Elizabeth turns to him and nods. She is not alright, _of course_ she is not, but what else can she possibly say? Her stomach lurches at being back, in this place where only a few days ago everything seemed so very different. However, she is here to retrace her steps, and retrace them she will. She peers through the darkness that is surrounding them, and the memories of Vaizel, both merry and devastating, jostle together in her mind as they pick their way over the broken main road.

Elizabeth stumbles as her mind wonders, not paying attention to where she steps, and Tristan catches her on the way down, grumbling about the lack of moonlight as he squints out into the dark, helping her back to her feet. The shadows deepen each minute as the twilight rapidly fades into night, and the road that had been left for travelers like them was becoming more treacherous the further they go.

Suddenly a warm glow comes from above, and Elizabeth jolts, looking up with a gasp to see a giant floating orb above them, bouncing up and down almost joyfully as it radiates brightly and illuminates their path. "What…?" she breathes, before coughing slightly into her hand at some dust in her throat.

"Oh come on." She looks over at Tristan, who is glaring halfheartedly at Lancelot as he points up at the orb. "You couldn't have brought that thing out _sooner?"_

"No," Lancelot doesn't even turn around as he leads the way. "I didn't feel like handling it until now."

"What is it?" Elizabeth asks, squinting up at the still spinning around globe.

"It's my Spirit Spear," Lancelot says with a grin, placing his hand in his pockets with a shrug. "Arondight. This is its fourth form, Illumine."

"We spent a night sitting in the dark for nothing," Tristan mutters, closing his eyes tightly with a groan. "Where did you have that thing stashed, anyway?"

They continue on as Lancelot explains, "I didn't have it with me- come on, you know how this works. Lord Gilthunder had it since last week, after it got pissed off and stabbed one of the trainers in the knee. You know my mom gave it to him? I was devastated I tell you. It barely even hurt him really." He grins at Elizabeth. "But uncle Gil doesn't know I can summon the thing sometimes. So don't tell him okay?" He laughs weakly as Tristan sighs, coming up to shove him a bit in the side.

"Sometimes?" Elizabeth speaks up as the boy's start to bicker, and Lancelot tries to push off as Tristan puts him in a headlock, answering vaguely with a grumbled, "It doesn't _always_ listen to me."

Elizabeth nods, half in a daze, for now she can see the emptiness that surrounds them. There are piles of rubble everywhere, leftovers from the maze she is sure, and she wonders why Vaizel has been left in such a state. It's just pure destruction, but surely someone over the past twenty-five years would have wanted to rebuild? Someone would have had the normal decision to pave over this tragedy. It does not make sense to her to leave this place this way.

"You know what I heard?" Lancelot says as they walk. Tristan tells him no, but he continues anyway, "This place is completely haunted." He starts to make ominous wails under his breath, flouting his orb closer to create scary shadows across his face as he wiggles his fingers towards them, and Tristan laughs for the first time since entering the valley. "That's the dumbest thing I ever heard. There's no such thing anyway."

"There are places you can see the dead," Elizabeth murmurs quietly, kicking a loose rock by her feet, and both of the boys sober immediately at her comment. They continue down the road in silence; once in awhile Lancelot knocks over a pile with his foot or stops to crouch down and examine something by the side of the road. Even Tristan, unable to ignore his curiosity for long, looks around at the more random items lying around. Otherwise, they walk slowly, cautiously, and quietly towards the hill looming in the distance.

Elizabeth has a nagging feeling that begins in her stomach, a general feeling at first that tugs and pulls at her while her eyes remain steady on the plateau. The dread begins to creep up through her chest then, and she realizes how tightly she is clasping her hands together when there is a sharp pain that shoots through her fingers and into her wrist. With an effort she forces them apart, her fingers turning white under the pressure she had them under, and nervously curls them to her sides, trying to remind herself that she is fine, they are safe, and there is nothing at all to be afraid of here. Whatever this terrible, all encompassing _bad_ feeling is, it is most likely nothing more than her supposed illness.

There is going to be something here, an important clue in this last place she remembered. She is _absolutely sure_ of it.

"Look at this!" Lancelot shouts, startling both Elizabeth and Tristan as his voice rings through the silence and echoes for what seems like miles. "What?" Tristan hisses at him as Lancelot trots over holding a disc in his hand, and when he holds it up Elizabeth gasps, her face paling. "What do you think it is? Maybe a mask?" He holds it in front of his face, laughing and moaning like a ghost.

Then suddenly Elizabeth remembers.

The mask is white, cracks here and there from age, but all she can focus on are the large black circles for eyes, the crosshatched slice across the bottom for a mouth that looks like a large smile. She stares into it, and the mask stares back at her. Is this the young man who needs her help? She knows he's bleeding from the back of the head from slamming so hard into the ground, and Elizabeth reaches out, calling forward her healing magic, wanting to help him, even though he and his brothers and been so quick to harm her and Elaine. But he is so hurt, young-

"Mother?" Someone, maybe the other Assassin of Marakia behind her, speaks up and her hand goes to her shoulder, covering the bite mark. _The bite mark is still there._

She shakes her head, coming back to herself and to the present, if this even is the present. She blinks frantically and sees Lancelot staring at her strangely, now holding the mask away from his face as he peers closely at her, looking deeply into her eyes, and Elizabeth is sure now that something is certainly off. One hand clutches her shoulder, so tightly her fingers are digging into the skin; the other hand is extended towards Lancelot, tiny flashes of power wisping from her fingertips.

"Mother." Elizabeth head whips around just as Tristan puts out a hand on her shoulder to steady her, grasping her firmly. Now it is his turn to peer at her closely. "Are you alright?"

She stares at him, taking in his face for a moment more, before she focuses on his light silver blonde hair, the color causing her breath to catch. "Y-yes," she breathes, looking back at Lancelot before saying, "That was a mask of a pair of brothers, who died at the hands of the Ten Commandments." Lancelot has the good sense to look shamefaced, and he quickly shoves the mask behind his back as Elizabeth turns and continues down the path, her feet feeling almost disconnected to her mind as she continues on.

The silence returns, this time a slightly more tense one as the men look at each other, staying close as they resume their walk towards the arena. The road becomes narrower as the rubble from the destruction clutters inwards, and after a while the road practically disappears altogether underneath the broken remains of Vaizel. The hill is closer now, and they pause at the base of it, the debris piled against the side, so packed that it has become a part of the landscape itself. "How do we get up there?" Tristan asks.

"There used to be… a bridge…" Elizabeth's eyes train to where the bridge once stood, connecting the flat top to the rest of the village, but of course it is gone now. Her gaze lingers before it follows back to the hill, and she looks up at the slope made of rock and wood. "We'll need to climb."

She does not wait for an answer before reaching out and gripping something and pulling herself up, the rubble shifting only slightly under her as little rocks and things crumble and fall down with each step, and a moment later Elizabeth hears Tristan and Lancelot also begin to climb. They use everything and anything as hand and foot holds: doors, windows, tile, brick, even furniture that is pressed into the jumbled mess. The dread returns to her chest, but it is accompanied by other emotions too, and it grows steadily as they climb higher and higher. A mixture of paranoia nips at the back of her neck, the skin pinching as terror makes her fingers tremble with each new hold she makes. She can feel her perception shift, her focus dimming, but she ignores it in favor of moving closer and closer to their goal.

"Hang on," Tristan calls after they have been climbing for several minutes, and Elizabeth pauses, looking down to where he is perched about a foot below her, to her left. He holds himself steady with one hand on a wooden board, his feet planted on a piece of metal protruding from the slope, and he is peering closely at something inside the twisted rubble. His face serious. "Lancelot, can you send the light over here?"

Arondight makes a spin or two, Lancelot clicking his tongue in annoyance until it floats closer, and Tristan tilts his head. He looks closer as Elizabeth's breath catches in her throat, and suddenly she knows what he is looking at, what he is trying to make sense of in the rock.

She closes her eyes and turns her head, pressing her face into the bend of her elbow as she steadies herself. She and Diane had made the same gruesome discovery as they walked through the maze, and found the bodies of the citizens piled and mashed together in the ground. She pants against her arm, trying hard to catch one good, cleansing breath. Then Tristan says, "I think there are _bodies_ in here," and Elizabeth begins to laugh.

It begins as a giggle, erupting unbidden from her mouth, and she presses into her arm, biting herself to stop it. But once it starts, she cannot stop, and within moments Elizabeth is laughing so hard her entire body shakes. She is forced to grip harder to the side of the hill to not fall, and when Lancelot says, "What's so funny about that?" her uncontrollable giggles evolve into gales of laughter.

There are tears in her eyes as she gasps for air, and she turns an apologetic face towards Tristan. He is looking at her with a mixture of puzzlement and horror, forcing another round of choking laughter to burst forth. "I found the bodies, didn't I ever tell you that story, Tristan?" she says through her giggles, and she bites her lip hard, trying to stop, but as his expression deepens into fear for her she finds it nearly impossible. "Lady Diane and Hawk and I found all of theses bodies, piled in the maze. Every-every- _hahaha_ \- last person in Vaizel died the day the maze was built." Her face and her head hurts from laughing, and her stomach is positively rolling as she all but doubles over, but the best she manages is to simply keep breathing as the laughter continues to bubble from her mouth.

Tristan and Lancelot look at each other in full-fledged fear now, the former shaking his head in nervous bewilderment, and there is a long moment as they watch her try to get a hold of herself, clearly not knowing what to do.

But then there is a low sound, like thunder, rumbling right around and under them, shaking the large pile of rubble they are still climbing. Tristan looks up but Lancelot, whose hearing is sharper, looks _down_.

"Uhh… Tristan?" he says in a high pitched voice, clearly _not happy,_ and the prince follows his gaze to the ground as the rubble moves, rolling in soft waves. Tristan gives a shout in disgust at the sight as there is a series of small explosions, rubble and bones and other things suddenly rippling in the air as creatures begin to burst out of the ground. "What are those things?!" Lancelot yells, squeaking as he scrambles upwards, but Tristan just shakes his head with a commanding shout, "Move! Damn it move now!"

They begin to climb again faster, scrambling on their hands and feet even as Elizabeth continues to laugh hysterically, and Tristan moves practically on top of her as more explosions come closer still. Sounds of animalistic squeals and gurgles start as clawed paws scratch up the mountain side, Tristan urging her on as she struggles to find hand holds in the rubble. He risks a glance behind them to see the creatures climbing after them, faster than he really thought they ought to be, using their claws to dig into the sloping mess as their back flippers help pull themselves up, and he curses as dozens of them climb over one another to get to them, their long mouths opening to show rows and rows of razored teeth.

 _Fuck fuck fuck,_ he's cursing loudly, pressing them upwards, but they are only two-thirds of the way to the top, his hand clenched tightly around his mother's arm. Elizabeth feels Tristan pushing her to go faster, helping to hoist her over a particularly tricky part of the climb as she still giggles under her gasping breath. And as she looks behind her, she hears him yell, "Lancelot! Get the queen!"

She only has time to look over her shoulder, seeing one of the creatures squeal as they come around her side, _only a few spaces away from her scrambling feet_ , and to her horror he swings himself around, almost throwing her through the air to Lancelot's outstretched arms as something takes an aborted bite for her leg, and Tristan is now only gripping with one hand, as he draws his sword.

She shouts at him to stop but Lancelot is grabbing her up, the little form of his body all but holding her up in the air as they run, continuing their ascent, as her laughter that had bubbled hysterically out of her stomach finally tapers off; instead she pants for breath from the effort, and the panic of the situation. More little forms shoot out of the hill, squealing and growling as they snap at them, surrounding them on all sides. Up and up they go, reaching further and faster, and Elizabeth struggles to stay focused through the sounds of Tristan shouting in effort as he fights off the swarm. She can hear the vile things growling and snapping as they get closer, but then to her relief, Lancelot disappears over the edge of the top of the hill, hurling himself over, before reaching down a hand that she struggles to grab. "What about Tristan!" she screams over the squeals and growls, even as he pulls her up with great effort as a pair of snapping jaws _just_ miss the back of her head.

"Damn it!" Lancelot is already up as Elizabeth slips over the top herself, landing hard on her stomach on the ground as he peers over the edge. "Stay here," Lancelot yells, pointing an open palm upwards towards the sky, "I've got him!" He jumps back over the edge as Elizabeth frantically crawls over to watch what is happening below, the shark like creatures focusing back on the boys as they swarm with salivating opened mouths.

Tristan is swiping at the creatures with his sword, slicing them in half, knocking those back that tried to catch him off guard from behind or below, exploding through the rubble until the flurry of activity is dizzying, but as he makes five fall from the side of the hill ten more appear, crawling up towards them at rapid speed to take their place. Meanwhile, Lancelot perches on a slab of wood sticking out from the slope and shouts, "Hey! Ass shits, Spirit Spear Arondight!" He throws out a hand, sloping downwards as one finally catches Tristan on the arm.

The floating orb that has been illuminating their way continues to hover over them, not moving down an inch.

Lancelot huffs in frustration as Tristan climbs a foot higher, yelling, "I could use some help here!"

"I'm trying!" Lancelot yells back. "Spirit Spear Arondight! Seriously?" Still the orb does not move, and finally he screams, "Would ya just get your _ass over here?!"_

Arondight suddenly takes off like a star, shooting straight through the sky at Lancelot who barely catches it in time before it knocks him from his perch, and he lands hard on his back with a loud and painful "Oof!" He groans, the orb shaking in his fingers and nudging him in the chest a couple times for good measure. "You ass," he coughs in pain, before chucking it into the air as hard as he can, quickly getting off the ground as one creature dives for his abdomen, and he yells out his technique through gritted teeth, _"Thousand Spears Downfall!"_

The orb breaks into hundreds of tiny metal daggers, shattering with blazing magic that surprises everything in the surrounding area, which then dart through the air, down the path they had just climbed and raining down from the sky. Tristan yelps and flings himself back against the debris, using what looks like a door as a shield as the dozens of creatures which had been snarling and biting below are pierced through with the blades. They howl as they begin to fall, pieces and chunks going this way and that as they give their last death howls.

It takes another moment for the night to go silent again, the crumbling wasteside going still, and Tristan uses the opportunity to once again climb, slightly with a limp and the side of his shirt torn to shreds, but otherwise in one piece. He hauls himself up as fast as he can before he collapses.

"That- that was close," Tristan pants, his chest rising and falling quickly as he lays on his back, looking up at the night sky as he catches his breath. A moment later Lancelot appears, standing over him with a grin, even as his arms shake as he rests them on his knees. "Another minute and I would have been dinner," Tristan says with a twisted smile, his forehead dripping with sweat.

"Nah," says Lancelot, huffing as he reaches out a hand to haul his friend up.

Tristan winces as he stands, looking down at his arm. The sleeve of his shirt has a long slice, tinged with red. "You have got to get a handle on that thing," he grumbles, looking over at Lancelot's spear which is back in the form of Illumine, bouncing back and forth above their heads again. "Arondight nearly got me too."

"That thing _never_ listens to me," Lancelot growls, glaring up at it as he points two fingers at his eyes and back at it, _judging_. "But luckily, we have a healer with us!" he laughs, both men nodding weakly before they turn to where Elizabeth lays safely on the ground near them.

But to their surprise, she's gone.

"Seriously?" Lancelot howls, looking around desperately, "Seriously?!"

"Mother!" Tristan calls out, scanning the arena, searching around to spot her. "Mom!" He's more desperate as he takes a step forward, but Lancelot stops him with a hand on his arm. "Look," he breathes, indicating over to where Elizabeth is stumbling to the center of the plateau, trying to keep her bearings.

Her skin is flushed and her heart is racing. Every part of her body feels as though it is twisting. She draws up short, finally reaching the spot where she had held Meliodas as he died, where she had knelt and cried either days or years ago. This is the spot, _right here_ , where the utter stillness, the utter _finality_ of his blood covered body brings a choking sob into her throat, and as she tries to kneel, Elizabeth realizes she is falling, falling, the sound of her son shouting behind her. Footsteps pound towards her as the back of her neck sears with pain, the skin pinching and twisting with far more agony than it ever had before, and she hits the ground, her head turning to the side… and now _she_ is dying this time, she is certain of it.


	11. Memories That Come

**A/N:** Here I am after five days without hot chocolate, stressed, and I have decided to leave the country and learn the ways of a shark. I will go swim in all the larges beaches of Australia, making sure to beach myself on the sand as much as possibly. I'm not worried about scaring people, because I am sure my face is enough to do that naturally. Lickitysplit will totally understand my journey for inner understanding of my need to bite things and roll around in salt water. She knows me well.

BettybBest2: Yes my love, this place is just wrought with danger and drama and dramatic dangerous drama. We love it. Elizabeth just hasn't had it easy ever since the love of her existance died in her arm, and really, this dying thing just keeps popping up with her. I'm sure she would be happy if it stopped but, meh. _**Cue evil cackling**_

sassykitten1701: In the ever loving hell there is many things going on. Yes. YES!

whitangel: Why thank you dear, we work hard on trying to be mysterious and suspenseful. We'll give credit where credit is due though; none of this would be possible without watching Law and Order Special Victims Unit. Those stories are nail biters.

Kristine: Oh… oh my lord, love. You said more than two words. I saw this review and Lickity had to give me the heimlich maneuver because I started choking on denial. We aren't going to stop now! OK OK!

Cerulean Grace: Yes, they are literally running up a hill! We are glad you noticed all those storm clouds on the horizon my love, I hope you brought a sturdy umbrella because it's gonna be a downpour of suspense!

Vhosek: Yea, this trip is a bit of a killer one (terrible pun intended, without any remorse) and hopefully you like what we have in store! We believe in you, you've made it this far we know you can do it!

Chapter eleven: Memories That Come

* * *

Meliodas grumbles out a thanks as he hands the reins of his horse to the waiting groomer, waving off the servants with a smile who approach as he takes the steps into Lioness Castle two at a time. He keep his hands in his pockets as he walks with a purpose.

His trip had done nothing but confirm the information they already had, and further frighten him about Elizabeth's situation. His mind wanders back to the man he had visited as he enters the castle. He had been a formerly active Holy Knight, ranking high among Lioness' finest ever in their history, and had been specially skilled in developing techniques for air-based attacks, revolutionizing military tactics in only a handful of years. But more importantly he was someone's husband, a father and a brother and soon-to-be grandfather. His bedside had been _surrounded_ with people, and everywhere he had turned someone who loved the man was crammed into his home, worried and distraught. However he had turned into nothing more than a muttering, skittish shell of himself, skin and bones and unable to recognize anyone, unable to even tell them his name. The Knight was withering away.

 _That will not happen to Elizabeth_ , Meliodas promises himself as he goes straight to their chambers, his face showing nothing of the shock of seeing the man first-hand. To read the parchments he had of the condition, even glancing at the scribbled notes his wife had made on the side in hurried ink before she too had contracted this… _nothing_ prepared him to see an illness that ate away at _everything_. Now he needs to see her, to assure himself that she was still here with him. He needs to hold her and hear her say his name, to still be his Elizabeth.

When he opens the door to their anteroom, he draws up in surprise that Ban and Elaine are there. "Yo. You're back," he says flatly to Ban, frowning only slightly as his eyes sweep around the room. He steps inside as Ban shrugs, cracking his neck with twist of his head. "Are you the first?"

"~No, Gilthunder is here too, and Diane was spotted not long ago~" he hums out an answers from where he was lounging in a chair. Elaine, who is near his knee, fumbles with the edges of her skirt as Meliodas stalks forward.

Meliodas nods, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yea, well, I hope your trip went better than mine did. I'll hear about it later though. I want to see Elizabeth first." He starts to walk towards the bedroom door, but Elaine hurries around the chairs to stand in his way. She's only an inch or so shorter than him, but she stands on the tips of her toes and she get him to stop. "Your Grace," she says quickly, blocking the door from him, "Meliodas. There's something you need to know."

He stops, his brows pulling down as she shoots a look at Ban behind him. "What is it?" he asks. He knows that tone of voice.

"Elaine~" Ban says warningly, sitting forward until his elbows rested on his knees, but she waves her hand at him to keep quiet, and says quickly, "Elizabeth isn't here."

Meliodas frowns. "I thought she was to stay here. Where is she?"

Elaine takes a deep breath. "We're not exactly sure."

He stops.

There is one moment of silence before Meliodas takes a step back, turning away from them both, and his face is blank as he looks _one more time_ around the room. Then he feels as his blood starts to boil, just enough, right under the surface to make the skin on his forehead prickle, and Elaine hurries on, "She is with Lancelot and Tristan! She's not alone, they've gone somewhere, but they didn't tell us where."

"Tristan? And Lancelot?" Meliodas says blandly, a picture of the two of them rough housing during training instead of _learning_ enters his mind, and Ban is already up and walking towards the two of them as Elaine stands taller. "All three of them? How could this happen?"

Elaine folds her arms, sticking her chin up a bit, and now they are both sizing the other up. "She didn't appear at lunch yesterday-"

"Yesterday?" he seeths, and Elaine placing her hands on her hips as he throws out a hand to motion towards the empty door, "She's been missing since _yesterday_ _afternoon?"_ Immediately everything that could have happened to her begins to cycle through his head as his teeth grind; she could be lost, hurt, kidnapped… she could be sitting somewhere, stuttering just like the Holy Knight, unable to tell anyone her name… and _Lancelot and Tristan_ were her only confidantes? Two children?

"Yes- _but!"_ Elaine cuts him off as he opens his mouth again, a hand up and pointing at him, and Meliodas frowns at her finger as she continues, "Lancelot and Tristan went to find her! Since they haven't come back either, I'm sure they are together. They will be alright, Tristan had an idea where to find her."

"There's no way you can know that." His voice is rising in anger as the fairy and demon stand inches apart, and Ban steps forward next to Elaine as she huffs. "Those boys can't protect her!"

"Of course they can!" Elaine bristles and bites back, poking him squarely in the chest. "Those _boys_ are Holy Knight apprentices, and both have reached manhood. They are powerful and smart and know right from wrong. I would trust them with my life."

"Don't care about your life," Meliodas grumbles, swatting at her hand, and she swats back, "And we both know the truth. I care about Elizabeth! She isn't-"

"Hey, cap'n, your tunnel vision is showing again~" Ban whistles, stepping between the two just to flick his hair, and Meliodas glances up at him in annoyance, but he just continues to say, "We have people looking. The castle has been searched, and Gilthunder got people looking in the city. Come on, we'll find Queenie."

"Ban, stop being logical." he says angrily. "They might not be in the Kingdom. They could be gone. Gone." Neither of them has an answer for that as he swats Elaine's hand one more time, which she does back harder, and there is an uncomfortable silence as she pouts. Finally Meliodas says, "I can't just stand around here. I need to go look for her."

 _"Meliodas."_ Elaine huffs, reaching out to touch his arm, gently, "Trust in our sons," she says firmly. "They will bring her back."

When Meliodas looks back at her, his face is still angry, but now it's mixed with pain. "I want to know as soon as Merlin gets here," he says over her head to Ban, who plops back down in his seat with a sigh. "Then we will find them and get them all back."

* * *

Lancelot watches the queen fall, and at first, it doesn't register. He stares at her crumpled form on the floor unable to move, or understand that the broken figure in the dirt is his unbreakable Aunt. A woman who _couldn't get sick_ , who was the one saving people and curing their woes, a natural born healer- she is the same as this _unmoving woman?_ \- before Tristan's anguished yell pulls him back to the present and forward, and he is sprinting behind him to get to her. Tristan is taller and reaches her first, shouting with a panicked twist to his voice, "Mother? Mother! _Mom! Wake up!"_

"Shit! Shit shit, Aunty?" Lancelot is cradling her head to him, and he pulls up short, not knowing what to do with his hands as his friend frantically pulls her into his arms, and Lancelot wildly looks for a pulse on her neck. Tristan gives her limp form a small, careful shake, her face terrifyingly pale. "Hey," he says over his panic, putting a hand on Tristan's shoulder as the other man frantically searching the queen for any injuries, and he ignores him, so Lancelot says more forcefully, "Hey!" and he pulls his shoulder until Tristan was forced to look away.

"Look!" he hisses as Tristan looks up, with eyes so wild it makes Lancelot's chest constrict, "This happened before, alright? I was there with Gowther, so she's gonna to be all right! Just let her _breathe for a minute!"_

"No! No there's something wrong, something really wrong!" Tristan moans frantically, looking back down at her as he pulls her more off the ground and into his lap. "There's been something wrong since we got here! When she saw that mask, and then when she was laughing- Mom was _laughing, Lancelot!_ I _knew_ \- I knew something was off, but I didn't…" Lancelot purses his lips as Tristan trails off before giving the queen another shake. "We shouldn't have come," his voice quivers as he tries to pick her up, his arms and legs shaking.

 _Probably not, come to think of it_ , Lancelot thinks to himself, but doesn't dare say it out loud. _But, they were already here, so,_ instead, he grabs Elizabeth by an arm. "We need to go. Let's get her out of here." He grunts as his own body protests the move, but Tristan is already standing, pulling her up into his arms, taking the majority of the weight even as the injury on his arm bleeds further through his shirt. Lancelot leads them back the way they came until they both stop short at the edge of the arena, looking down at the destruction and bodies that were left in Arondight's wake. It was clear there was no safe or stable way down the crumbling hillside. "How are we gonna do this, damn it." Tristan hisses with dismay.

"Let me think, let me think," Lancelot grumbles quickly, a hand in his hair, before he snaps his fingers with a loud, "Ah ha! I got it." He points at Arondight, still hovering above them and says, "Listen here, and I mean it. You are going to do what I tell you do you understand?" His voice drops into a low growl, and there is a moment as the two regard one another before Lancelot takes a steadying breath. He might actually be able to pull this off. "The queen is hurt and needs help. Spirit Spear Arondight, Form Two. _Guardian."_

The entire sky burst into a blinding light as the orb bursts, twisting and turning as the magic it emanates burns hot, and both boys cringe downwards. There's a swooping wind with a large and crushing _thump,_ and seconds later a huge three-headed dog appears standing above them. Its fur is short and a deep red, its heads snarling and snapping at one another, as its large paws stand only inches from them. Lancelot gives a whoop in triumph, clapping his hands together, and Tristan can only gape for a moment. "How did you do that?"

"Like it?" he says proudly. He walks around the dog, larger than the biggest horse Tristan has ever seen, and gives it a scratch on the back of a leg. "His name is Cabal. I figured him out while you were away." He jumps on its back, and as one head turns to glare at him, Lancelot shoots it a warning look, pointing a finger at an eye as large as his head. Then he holds out a hand to Tristan. "Come on, climb. Cabal will take us down."

Tristan hands him the queen's unmoving form before sliding up behind him, eyeing the thousand pound dog as Cabal gives a whine of protest, but Lancelot says firmly, "Take us back down to the road." Even he is surprised at the tone in his voice, and the dog does not hesitate to leap forward, landing expertly on all four feet in the rubble along the side of the hill. Then it hurries forward at a brisk pace, barking and huffing as it slides over and dodges through the refuse until they safely reach the bottom, uncaring of the now crumbling hillside that plummets around it.

Lancelot urges Cabal forward, pressing his hand against the base of where the dog's necks connect, and it trots at a steady rate back up the dark road. It's hard to tell by just the starlight where they are, but he figures that they had to have covered at least a mile by the steady pace. "Where are the horses?" he mutters to himself, looking around the moving heads, before Cabal draws up short, a head shooting upwards to sniff the air, and growls.

"What is it?" he asks, giving it a reassuring pat, but the Cerberus only growls again, all three heads pointing in one direction for once, drool dripping down its quivering jaws. He looks up and peers through the darkness, and then senses energy moving straight ahead and to the right. "Stay here," he says to Tristan, who nods, sliding off of the dog's back slowly and stepping around front into the road.

It's silent for a moment, before a loud hiss comes out of the dark. "Look who it is, boys," it comes from the side, and Lancelot jumps, whirling towards the sound. "It's the _men_ from the bar."

"I think you're right," says another one, shrugging as he saunters forward from the other side this time, and now Lancelot can see the figures clearly as they approach. There are five men, spread out around them, and he is sure they are the same group from the corner table in the bar. Why did he insist they go in there again?

It clearly wasn't his most defining moment.

"Fellas, fellas," Lancelot says, trying to chuckle, but his adolescent voice comes out too high, "I think you have us mistaken for someone else. There's definitely no way we know each other. So, uh, if it's alright with you, we're just going to get on our horses and be on our way."

The men give a harsh round of laughter, like he just sprouted a good joke. "We took your horses," the first one grinds out, and they step closer. "We'll be taking that sword too, and any other little valuables you boys have on yourselves."

He can see from the corner of his eye as Tristan slides off of Cabal's back, Elizabeth still held tightly in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, and his back tenses. None of the men seem too worried about the _giant growling three headed_ guard dog, which has Lancelot cursing like his father in his head. "Well, yea, I don't think so," Lancelot answers mildly, eyeing Tristan. "Look, If ya know what's good for you, you'll leave us be." The men make no move, so Lancelot puts a hand on his hip in exasperation, rolling his eyes skywards. "Really? I'm telling you, you don't want to do this-"

"Sir Meliodas?" Elizabeth tired voice draws everyone's attention, her soft gentle whisper cutting through the group, and Lancelot grits his teeth as one takes a few steps forward. "Well would you look at that," he says. "You boys have tired this girl right out!"

There is another round of laughter that makes Lancelot's skin crawl and his hair stand on end. "Don't worry, we'll take her off your hands too." Another man laughs, making a lewd movement with his tongue towards his aunt, and there is the soft sound of multiple weapons being drawn as a low, deep growl starts at the base of Cabal's throats.

"Over my dead body," Tristan says threateningly.

From up ahead, one of the men approaching rapidly yells, "That can be arranged!" Lancelot sees a weapon being swung at him through the dim light, and he shoots out his hand on instinct as he ducks, Cabal disappearing in a bright snap as the Spirit Spear flashes before his hand. He swings it around, blocking the sword just in time, and a spark of green magic erupts from where the two clang together. The man looks down at him in shock as the larger spear vibrates under the muscles in his arms, before he pushes it off, the spear still solid in Lancelot's grasp.

"This one thinks he's a Holy Knight with his oversized spear!" the man laughs. He steps back, brandishing his curved sword around for a moment, and Lancelot lets Arondight go, the spear hovering beside him as it twirls around theatrically, but listening. "Here's a lesson for you," he continues with a grin. "Holy Knights aren't the only ones with powers, you know." He sneers as he raises his sword and calls, _"Sonic Roar!"_

Lancelot can only yelp in surprise shock as he crashes backwards, Arondight sailing overhead as a wave of overwhelming energy knocks into him and slams him into the ground, rock and dirt flying up around him. His ears seem to explode with the sound of the attack, pain racing up his temples and for a dizzying moment, everything is muffled and ringing. _"That- ow- really hurt,"_ he coughs, rolling his neck carefully to look around as he slowly tries to get up. His spear jerks itself out of the ground before swirling off the dust somewhere off in the distance, and he sees Tristan behind him, coughing and covering Elizabeth with his body, also struggling to get to his feet as a dust cloud dissipates around them.

The men are now approaching, laughing and cheering as Lancelot forces himself to move, sticking his hand out for Arondight again. And not a moment too soon; there is another swipe of the sword, another sonic blast that rockets dirt and chunks of earth up around them, but this time Lancelot has Arondight pressed to the knuckles of his fist, now in the form of a huge metal shield that blocks the three of them from the magic attack.

It strikes the metal of the shield like a gong, the weapon vibrating so hard that the _roar_ of the technique echoes for miles, the air forced back, and everyone quickly covers their ears with agonized screams as the air shakes.

Lancelot huffs, wincing as his arms shake from the amount of magic he's had to throw around in such a limited time, but he keeps his eyes trained on controlling his sacred weapon, "Are you alright?" he calls over his shoulder to Tristan. When there is no answer, he dares a look behind, and his eyes widen at what he sees.

His friend is standing slowly, drawing his sword from its sheath, but his head is bowed limply to the ground at an awkward angle. Elizabeth lays unmoving by his feet, but Tristan just steps over her, walking forward and past where Lancelot is crouched. "Hey!" he shouts, reaching out to try to grab him. "What the hell are ya doing?" he yells around the shield that Tristan doesn't hesitate to go around.

Tristan shakes him off, his face blank. "Stay back," he doesn't so much as warns, as simply _tells him to_ and Lancelot drops his arm, backing up a few steps. He has never heard that voice come out of him before, and the sound of it sends a chill down his spine as he looks on with wide eyes.

Quickly he gets to the queen, pulling her up with one arm and trying to drag her out of the road as gently as he can, his shield covering the both of them, and when she moans and clings to him, Lancelot curses under his breath. "Aunt Elizabeth," he whispers through his teeth. "Are you awake?"

She begins to rouse, her forehead scrunching up before her eyes blink slowly open, still dazed even as she brings a hand up to her head. _"What- what happened?"_ she groans, her voice hoarse, and her fingers darts down to hold her throat.

"You- I don't know, you collapsed or something again," he says, trying to be reassuring, and he rubs her shoulder gently as she shakes her head, even patting the top of her hair nervously as he glances behind his back. "Do you feel alright? Are ya hurt?"

"No, no," she says softly, and then looks around. After a moment she finally spots Tristan, even as Lancelot tries to hide her view, approaching the men, and she gasps. "What is he doing?" she croaks, sitting up fully.

"No idea," Lancelot mutters back, keeping a firm hand on her shoulder to keep her put.

Wind is whipping around Tristan now, his head still tilted at a _wrong_ angle downwards, and his hand grips the sword tightly by his side. He flips his wrist as he approaches them, dark flames begin to dance along the blade, even darker than the surrounding night, and Lancelot sucks in a breath. "This is bad," he whispers to no one in particular. "This is bad. Bad bad bad _bad."_

"What's happening to him?" Elizabeth cries out. The flames move from the tip of his sword, down the length of the blade, and now lick along his arm to his shoulder. They watch as Tristan raises the sword out in front of him, and the flames shoot down both arms. His back is bent weirdly, his shoulders rigid, and he stands unmoving, not even looking at the men surrounding them.

Lancelot shakes his head. "I don't know," he tells her. "His ability is called _Strike_ , and I've seen him use it loads of times, and I've seen the flames on a small scale, _sure_ , but this…" His voice fades away with another flash of the flames licking by his arms, almost like a living snake through the air. "I've never seen this before."

Elizabeth looks on for a moment more, noticing how the black flames move in a way both like fire but drips like ink, and suddenly another time springs to her mind; where the sun is still up and they are still at Vaizel, where it's just as desperate, her sister screaming and the explosions, and it isn't Tristan standing there with silver hair and a sword and the uncontrolled demonic power, but it is _blonde hair..._

"He looks like…" Suddenly Elizabeth is gripping Lancelot's shirt, and he looks back sharply at her. "You have to stop him," she urges him, trying to stand. "You have to stop him before he does something terrible."

Lancelot looks at her strangely, before he nods. He stands and starts towards Tristan, holding his arm up to shield his face from the increasing winds that are wrapping around him. "Tristan!" he calls. "What are you doing?"

He can hear the men shouting at him, taunting him even as he draws forth his power. _Are these guys stupid?_ Lancelot wonders, cursing left right and sideways in his head, and quickly darts his eyes among them. Two of the five have power levels he can sense, and could have probably been Holy Knights if they had the inclination, but the others must think they'll be protected. Hawk was stronger than them.

"Be a good boy and hand over the sword," the one who had attacked them shouts, standing smugly in the middle of his men. "If you do, maybe we'll let you all go."

"Yeah!" yells another one. "I'm gonna pick my teeth with it!"

The others laugh, cackling hotly and Lancelot just shakes his head. "Come on, Tristan," he calls, ducking under a wave of wind that almost whips him back a few steps. "Three of them are just regular humans! They're a bunch of idiots!"

"Come on, boy," hollars the first one again, stepping forward and he is no longer smiling, raising his sword again. "Put the sword down, and we'll take it easy on you. We'll take it easy on your girl, too."

Two of the men start to approach, and Tristan twists his sword in the air, the flames flicking at the edges, "Stop!" Lancelot calls. "You don't have to do this! The hell man, knock it off!"

Tristan finally gives a growl, the sound barely recognizable even as his face stays mostly blank, his lips parted slightly. "Get out of here, Lancelot," he says, his eyes an inky black. "I don't want to hurt you."

Helplessly, Lancelot looks around. He doesn't want to get in front of this attack- he can only imagine what a half-demon pissed off Holy Knight will do, looking like that- but he can't just let him take out these men. The Tristan he knows will regret this forever. He needs to stop him, now.

Taking several steps back, Lancelot holds out his hand and swallows. "Spirit Spear Arondight-!"

 _"Massive Strike."_ Tristan calls, and Lancelot falters in his own command. He had never heard of this attack before, and he watches in horror as Tristan gives one swipe of his sword, the blade arching through the air. He starts to shout at him to stop, but a split second later the flames shoot forward, ripping apart the air and ground and shattering forward into five perfect blades, angled just right to hit all the men at once, followed by an explosion of white.


	12. What Really Matters

**A/N:** Lickitysplit here again, having just fished Woundedowl out of the ocean. I must apologize for her silliness last chapter. She caught a preview for _Sharknado 4_ and just got a bit excited.

Please enjoy the chapter! We changed what happens in this one about twelve times. Who knows, maybe if you come back to read it again tomorrow or the next day it'll be different again. And since this is apparently now a thing, don't forget to put your t-shirt order (Team Tristan or Team Lancelot) in the comments! :D

BettyBest2: I knew if you just hung on long enough you'd see what Lancelot was capable of. I'm glad you liked the Elaine/Meliodas squabble. It's based directly on how woundedowl and I settle our differences.

Cerulean Grace: Yeeeeeesssssssssssssssss!

CaptainTwiggy0918: Escalated indeed. Yup, Tristan was in a pretty tight spot last chapter. He's got a lot to learn about those demon powers of his.

Vhosek: I'm so glad you enjoyed the suspense! It's always satisfying to see jerks get theirs, especially when those jerks are being so jerky to Elizabeth.

Chapter twelve: What Really Matters

* * *

Elizabeth coughs, ragged breath after breath, her eyes watering and her ears ringing as she sits up. The dust and dirt are starting to settle around them, and she squints through the disintegrating cloud swirling across the field. The wave of energy that had just blasted them all from Tristan's attack had burned the entire valley white, the ground now cracked, scorched almost smooth and covered in ash. The heat and power from it had been intense and her mind races, wondering _how_ it could have been so- so very _powerful,_ or whether any of the men could have possibly survived as she sits up, shakingly, ash falling from her hair.

She struggles to catch her breath, coughing so hard her chest hurts, but just as she begins to breathe again, she lowers her arms covering her face to peer through the smoke. The men are still there, to her absolute relief, and there is Lancelot getting up a few paces from her with eyes wide as saucers. But Tristan is gone from the place he had been standing.

Instead, in his place is Meliodas.

"What-?" she cries out, choking, and Meliodas' eyes move a bit to lock with hers, and she is suddenly, _overwhelmingly relieved_ to see him. She takes in her first deep breath as he looks at her now with an unreadable expression, his skin almost pale and his hair disheveled, a hand gripping Lostvayne tightly, and a large cut sliced into his opposing shoulder. "Meliodas," she croaks- until she realizes that the surge of power wasn't Tristan's, but Meliodas', and when the thought registers completely she gasps.

 _Oh no._

He used _Full Counter_ to stop Tristan's attack. She mutely shakes her head numbly, in terrified shock, and the five men behind Meliodas groan loudly from their spot on the ground, in a pile of pained limbs. But then Meliodas' eyes go from slightly surprise to pained as he turns his eyes away from her, to her side, and Elizabeth looks to where he is he staring.

Tristan is on the ground, on his back, not moving. His clothing is torn to shreds, his head turned to the side, covered in dirt and blood. "Tristan!" With a yelp she is up and scrambling forward, leaving a trail of ash as she calls his name in panic. Crashing to her knees by his side with a pained cry she encircles him, and not a moment later Meliodas is there too, pressing a hand on the young man's forehead gently as he leans closer. "I didn't know it was him until too late," he says bitterly. "I had to stop it."

Elizabeth doesn't answer, she doesn't have time, as she cradles one arm under her son's neck, pulling him up as she using the other to clasp his hand tightly. His skin is hot and slick with sweat, his breathing shallow and uneven. The demonic markings are fading from his forehead, and she squeezes gently, pressing her mind forward, willing her healing power to enter him. She can sense that he isn't mortally wounded, not physically, but simply knocked unconscious from the combined force of the magic energy that had hit him. Elizabeth shivers, a feeling of something painful lodging in her throat as she tries to swallow.

 _Meliodas was able to save them both._

After a few tense moments, she relaxes and opens her eyes, letting out a shaky sigh of relief as she squeezes his hand. His clothes and face are covered with dirt and grime, his shirt is in ruins and the metal of his arm guard is cracked from their journey through Vaizel; briefly she wonders how bad of a state she is in too. All of this, all of this happened because she had taken them here. But then Tristan lets out a groan, shifting in her hold, and opens his eyes slowly. _"What?"_ he rasps. _"What happened?"_

Elizabeth sucks in a breath, smoothing his hair back away from his brow with shaking fingers, and looks up at Meliodas. He is still staring down at their son, drinking in the sight of him as Tristan groans in slight pain, shaking off the last bit of the spell's effects. Elizabeth notes the tension in Meliodas jaw, knowing he's trying to hide it, but the piercing look in his eyes is there even as he presses down on Tristan's shoulder in a comforting way. Finally he looks up at Elizabeth, his lips pursed, and they share a moment that is both in relief and dread before he says, "What is going on?"

"These guys attacked us!" Lancelot shouts behind them, and Elizabeth jerks, glancing over in surprise to see him being flanked on either side by Ban and King. Ban has a stranglehold grip on Lancelot's arm, half hugging the boy, who only makes it _barely_ passed Ban's knee, and half dragging him along while King floats above on Chastiefol, glaring at Lancelot through tightly drawn brows. Merlin is there too, standing at the side with a hum, tapping her chin in thought as she looks at the ground. "They were trying to rob us," Lancelot yelps as Ban turns his head this way or that, looking for injuries, and he sputters on, quickly, "and they wanted the queen too! It isn't Tristan's fault they were _assholes!"_

Meliodas growls in anger as he stands, his face calmly blank as he sheathes Lostvayne behind his back, while one of the men shout out, "That's the _queen?_ The real _queen of Lioness?_ Oh shit, we had no idea!"

"Please don't hurt us!" another yells, holding up his hands "If- if we knew that…!"

"Shut up!" The leader roars as he starts to raise his sword, stumbling up with a sneer, "They can't do anything to me-!"

He is cut off as his sword flies through the air, his eyes bugging out as it snaps into Ban's waiting grip. "~I wouldn't try anything if I were you~" Ban looks bored, even as he holds a kicking Lancelot off the ground in his other hand.

Meliodas is glaring at the men with an unmistakable menace as the bandit pales, realizing how just how much the tables had turned as the king turns towards the others. "Merlin, take us all back," he says. Elizabeth helps Tristan to his feet, his arm slung over her shoulder as he leans against her. "We can handle this situation there." He watches the two of them in the corner of his eye as he puts a hand on his hip, pointing towards the north.

She feels Tristan stiffen against the arm she has wrapped tightly around his waist, and he looks at her. "What... did I do?" he says slowly with a pained look, hesitant as he looks around at the bleached white ground under them. "Did I do this? Did I hurt anyone?"

"No," she whispers back to him, squeezing his waist comfortingly. "You saved both me and Lancelot. Don't worry." She nudges him, leaning more into his side even as she cannot help but wonder as she looks at him, as his eyes nervously glancing around the seared rock and ash covered valley, what would have happened if Meliodas had not stopped that attack? She does not want to believe that her son could be capable of so much harm, that he could lose himself to a point that it _scares_ him afterwards.

 _Your son?_ She purses her lips as the vicious voice in her head rears up again, but pushes it away quickly, too focused on helping Tristan to allow the illness to take even the slightest hold of her.

Tristan nods, looking doubtful before he notices the wound on his father's shoulder, how it's bleeding through his royal dress shirt just slightly, and his eyebrows shoot up. They join the others who are standing around Merlin, stumbling on slightly. There is a flash of light and a rush of wind, and Elizabeth finds herself stumbling this time as the Great Hall of the castle materializes around them, and it's Tristan's turn to hold onto her tightly, helping her stand back on her feet with an arm wrapped supportively around hers.

Meliodas is giving orders as Elizabeth blinks off the move, Ban calling for the guard, and he oversees the men being relieved of their weapons and arrested. Even with his wild hair and loud voice, Ban is able to look authoritative while he keeps one hand tightly on Lancelot's shirt, suspending him feet off the ground as if the boy would take off the second he let go; Elizabeth then imagines that might actually be the case. There is a flurry of activity around them as they simply stand watching the guards disarm and try to lead the argumentative prisoners away, and at the same time Elaine arrives, rushing to grab Lancelot in a hug with a yell of "Oh there you are!" all while checking him for injuries and arguing with King. She kisses the top of the boy's head, ignoring how Lancelot squawks in indignation, and without even realizing it, Elizabeth presses against Tristan for support, even as he gives her a brief squeeze.

Merlin approaches her with a soft, but sly smile, looking her over. "Are you feeling all right, Elizabeth?" she asks mildly, her head titled to the side as she crosses her arms, "You look a bit pale." Her eyes train over her face, looking curiously from one eye to the other behind her hair.

Elizabeth slowly nods, shifting on her feet. "It was a difficult journey, and we ran into a bit of trouble." She blushes a bit as Merlin gives a noncommittal hum, raising a brow, but they are interrupted by Meliodas. "A bit of trouble?" he says, his voice unexpectedly calm as he walks forward. "I think that is an understatement. Now, tell me exactly what happened."

Tristan and Lancelot look at each other for a moment before both start talking.

"We found her at the gates and we couldn't let her go by herself-She snuck out, I tell you she was like a professional!-We tried to keep her safe, but then there was this bar and-"

Their words fall over each other as they each try to tell their version of the story, and they describe everything from finding Elizabeth in the tunnel, their journey on horseback, eating squirrel, to the events in the tavern outside of Vaizel, for which they _both_ have vastly different versions of the tale; and then they recount picking their way through the destroyed town and climbing the hill of rubble. It's a fast array of anxious and jumbled storytelling that makes Meliodas tense, and when they describe the creatures that attacked them on their way up, Ban finally cuts them off.

"You fought off sand crawlers?" Ban exclaims in surprise, looking down at his son still clenched firmly in his grip, and Lancelot nods sheepishly, "Andronight even listened! It was _intense!"_ And then they're off again to continue, telling of how they escaped onto the arena and how they finished off the herd, but that's when both boys come to an abrupt stop.

They look at each other, before glancing over to Elizabeth.

"Then what?" Meliodas asks sternly.

Elizabeth looks at the ground, and she feels Tristan press his hand against her arm reassuringly. "Mother, she- she was overwhelmed, I think, and-"

"She dropped like a rock," finishes Lancelot lamely. "Just, BAM!" He slaps his hands together to illustrate his point, and not just Meliodas glowers at him as Merlin sighs.

"Hey." Ban grunts, giving Lancelot a shake as Elaine scolds, "You're in enough trouble. We don't need theatrics."

"But it's true!" Lancelot protests, swinging his arms around in the air. "She fell over, just like the other day with Gowther!" Elizabeth winces, feeling their eyes on her, as they search her form and notice her scraped hands and knees, the small bruises and cuts, before Lancelot says weakly, "Uh, well, I guess it wasn't that bad, come to think of it."

"It was bad. We got her out of there as safely as we could," Tristan says, cringing as he clenched his fists. "We… we would have gotten her home fine if it wasn't for those thieves."

"Yeah, you should have heard what they said about her- ow!" Lancelot yelps as he's given another shake, Elaine even pinching his thigh.

Elizabeth's cheeks burn and her eyes flutter closed briefly in embarrassment. She knows this entire thing is all her fault, and she should have _never_ taken the two of them with her to Vaizel. She steels her courage and looks up to meet Meliodas' eyes, trying to plead with him silently to understand, and he stares back at her, the pain evident on his face. And it _hurts_ to see the disappointment there.

Their unspoken exchange lasts only a moment before he turns away, and the group looks at him as he folds his arm, leaning on one leg more than the other. They wait for the king's verdict, and he almost looks pained to think, for just a moment. "I trusted the two of you," Meliodas says slowly, his voice even and he's looking at the two of them solemnly. "I asked you to take care of the queen, to protect her, to watch her and fulfill simple orders, and instead you put her directly into harm's way." Lancelot begins to speak but Meliodas holds up a hand for silence. "You aren't supposed to even _have_ Arondight right now, from what I understand," he says with a grim calm, Lancelot remaining silent for once as he shifts uncomfortably, before turning to Tristan. "And _you,_ Tristan… if I hadn't been there, do you understand you would have killed those men? Do you even remember pulling your sword?" The prince blanches, but he keeps his head up, meeting his father's gaze. "It's obvious to me that _neither_ of you are ready to be Holy Knights, based on your actions."

Tristan sucks in a breath, flinching as Lancelot shouts loudly in protest, but it is Elaine who interrupts him. "Your _Grace,"_ she says, a bit coldly, "everyone is tired and has been through a great deal these past two days. I think it's best if we let our sons rest, and we can discuss this tomorrow."

Meliodas looks at her through narrowed eyes, folding his arms, but then Elizabeth pleads gently, "Meliodas, please. She's right."

There is a long silence before he finally says, "Then that's that, I guess," giving both boys a withering look, and with a last, "This is not over," he turns and walks off, back inside the castle.

The others watch him go silently, Ban clicking his tongue as King mumbles something, and then Elaine says, "Let's all get some sleep." She seems suddenly tired, her shoulders sagging as she leads Lancelot away, Ban still holding his shirt tightly even as he lets him walk, and King follows behind while Merlin disappears. Which leaves Elizabeth alone standing with Tristan at the bottom of the castle steps.

"I suppose we should get you in too," she says awkwardly, but Tristan pulls away from her, his face still as a stone. "You don't have to do that," he answers gruffly, all of the energy leaving his eyes as he stands stiffly.

"Can I?' Elizabeth gives him a weak smile. "Will you let me anyway? As a thank you?"

"A thank you?" Tristan copies, his mouth twisting a bit as he looks down, before he nods. After a moment for him to collect himself, they walk together to his room without a word. He still has a limp, but he doesn't ask for help. "Thanks," he says begrudgingly, his voice cracking at the end, but as he opens the door to go inside, Elizabeth puts a hand on his arm, and he is hesitant to stop.

"Thank you for everything," she says quietly. Tristan remains focused on the doorknob, but stills at her touch. "You were so brave today. I'm sorry for what I said yesterday, about you not acting like a knight. I was wrong."

"Yeah, well," he answers, "I think Dad- _the King,_ wouldn't agree." He looks at her finally, and her breath catches painfully when she see the anguish tinged in his tired, red-rimmed eyes. "And he's _right._ I would have killed those men, wouldn't I? I didn't even know what I was doing. I wasn't in control." Elizabeth begins to reassure him but Tristan shakes his head, his hand clenched tightly around the handle to the door. "He's right. I can't be trusted." He yanks open the door and steps inside, closing it hard behind him.

Elizabeth stands there, opening and closing her hands, and she flinches slightly when she hears the tell tale sound of the lock being turned on the other side. She lets out a shaky breath before resting her forehead against the wood, squeezing her eyes shut as she imagines Tristan standing there, before slowly turning away, a heavy feeling in her stomach and her throat tight, and goes to return to her own room. Heading straight to the washroom and locking the door she peels off her soiled clothes, anxious to get clean, to sit in the silence and just _think._

She had wanted to go to Vaizel for answers, to find something that now, now… _what was the point?_ Instead all she had done was create more problems. She had found no answers, because there were none to be found. She had thrown her entire family into chaos, hurting children, hurting _Meliodas_ … no wonder he was not here by her side.

Elizabeth is now sure Merlin is right after all; there is something wrong with her, something missing, something _not working correctly_ inside of her head. She sits down hard on the little chair in front of her dressing table, holding a white and fluffy towel up to her chest, and looks at her reflection in the mirror. Her face and hair are covered in dirt and ash, her eyes swollen and dark rimmed from the attack, her skin pale. Compared to the clean and pristine room around her, she doesn't belong. How could she have done something so very foolish? She realizes she can barely recognize herself anymore.

* * *

An hour later, Meliodas finally heads towards his chambers. He had been so keyed up after they returned from Vaizel- _so frustrated_ with a _festering anger_ \- that he needed to do something, anything. Normally when he was upset he would have a drink or two or ten, usually with Ban, even Gil, but Ban was dealing with his own family trouble, and the thought of drinking alone wasn't appealing for once. Even with the whole distillery at his disposal and the real possibility of him getting drunk, instead, Meliodas walks.

He traces through the entire castle, all over the grounds, his hands moving from his pockets to his hair to curling by his sides, thinking through everything. No one troubled him, of which he is glad; it is late enough that the castle had wound down for the night, torches lit and guards standing at their posts, and the grounds are mostly deserted of servants and guards and councillors roaming about. He uses the time to think, about everything that had happened since he left the day before, his terror at finding her gone- _again_ \- eclipsed only by the moment that he had learned all three of them were missing, that they were in Vaizel when Merlin searched Aldan for their whereabouts.

 _Vaizel._

"Why would she go back there? What would she possibly hope to learn there?" Meliodas says aloud, looking skyward. He must ask her directly, he knows this, but he shudders to think of her in that place again, his body tensing at the thought of any of them in that place of death, where after three thousand years of him searching for it he saturated that land. So he continues walking, allowing the anger and uncontrollable frustration, the anxiety in his body to become slowly replaced with fatigue so he can face Elizabeth. He would not show her this side of him, he never had, and slowly his mind switches on to new thoughts.

In his mind Meliodas sees Tristan, standing with his sword raised and covered in dark fire, his eyes going blank as demon markings begin to faintly cover his brow and crawl down the side of his face. It had taken just a fraction of a second for Meliodas to read the oncoming power, and without hesitation he had drawn his sword and performed _Full Counter_ ; but then, just at that moment, he had realized it was Tristan behind the attack. He does not regret stopping it because he knows that it would have killed those five men, and he _knows_ as well that Tristan would never forgive himself, would regret taking their lives forever when his darkness receded and the boy he knows came back. But still Meliodas curses himself, stopping by a staircase archway to look out a window, berating himself for the choice he had made; why did he not use _Counter Vanish?_

It was a mistake, a stupid mistake, and Tristan had paid the price for it. But there is something else nagging at him, because Meliodas knows that his Counter did not repel Tristan's attack. Not completely, _apparently._

He smiles grimly as he brings a hand up to pat the slash across his shoulder. His wound and the fact that Tristan had _survived_ his terrible mistake are proof enough that there was more to this story. But he cannot think clearly enough to work out the solution, because the weight of what almost happened to his son, by his own hand, threatens to bear down on him too heavily for him to breathe.

He hadn't felt like this, not in a long time...killing his own family; it wasn't something he wanted to feel again.

Now, now Meliodas is simply tired, craning his neck to get a kink out of it, and he reaches his room with a grateful sigh. He can hear Elizabeth in the adjoining room as he leans against a desk, and he remembers _not_ to barge in on her this time, opting instead to just pull off his shirt and trousers here, climbing into the bed in just his bottoms before Elizabeth even comes back into the room. He lays on his stomach with a groan, stuffing his face into a pillow and lying still, before turning over to stare at the ceiling. He probably wasn't going to find much sleep this night.

He closes his eyes, simply breathing for a moment, and then there's a creak of the door opening. He glances over as Elizabeth emerges soon afterwards, her face downcast in deep thought, and it's then that she notices him, making a small aborted noise of surprise as she stops halfway through the doorway, and as her eyes travel downwards, she jerks. "Sir Meliodas!" She seems to forget any earlier hesitation as she rushes around to his side in worry. "Your shoulder!" She climbs quickly up into bed next to him as he sits up, her hands reaching over his chest as she places her palms on him, pressing against the wound with her steady fingers.

There's only just one lamp burning on his bedside table as she works, the room mostly bathed in darkness as it illuminates her face clearly, and he watches her work. His eyes trace over her face and down her familiar form as wisps of light snake into his wound and finally, he asks after another silent moment, "Why would you go there, Elizabeth?"

Her hands twitch, but her face gives nothing away as she stays focused on the injured flesh, watching as it slowly mends.

"I…" She opens her mouth, closing it again, before she continues softly, "I needed to see… perhaps if I had found something…" Her voice trails off, wavering as she keeps her eyes downcast, and her palms rest against him, focusing on how his chest rises and falls. "I did this. You were hurt today because of me."

"Elizabeth," he sighs, his voice tinged with exasperation as she shrinks in on herself. "You could have said something. You could have told me you wanted to go."

"Sir Meliodas," She gives a humorless laugh. "You would not have agreed to let me go."

There is a tense silence as Elizabeth returns to healing the cut, a small frown on her face as Meliodas looks away. When the task is done, she brushes her fingers against the now unblemished skin, and when she softly asks, "How did you get hurt?" he lays there, still, as he tries to come up with the answer.

Meliodas swallows thickly. "Something went wrong with my Counter, I think. I'm not sure." His voice is steady, remaining even; then, when she says his name again, he knows she wants him to look at her, but he _can't._

"Sir Meliodas?" His eyes stay focused on the ceiling as she sits closer to him, folding her legs under her as the gentle sound of his name gives him the courage to continue.

"I almost killed Tristan." He closes his eyes as he continues, "I made a mistake, and he could have died. Any of you could have…" His voice falters for a moment, and when he speaks again his hands fist in the bedcovers, his words edged with anger. "I could have killed our son tonight."

"No," she says, with such finality that he is forced to look at her. He meets her eyes in the dim light, the lantern flickering as she shakes her head softly, "You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't hurt him."

Meliodas returns her gaze now, his mouth tightening into a line. He can see that she does not understand- _how could she?_ \- and he clenches his jaw as her fingers come up to start caressing his cheek. "You could never hurt any of us," she murmurs.

 _Us?_ The thought makes his chest constrict, as she finally includes herself again in their family, for the first time since the illness had struck; he searches her face, finally beginning to feel as though this entire situation might be _okay._ Then Elizabeth sucks in a breath, dipping her gaze to his chest as she bites her lip, before saying, "I think there _is_ something wrong with me."

Meliodas frowns, "What do you mean?"

Elizabeth rushes on, "There- there was nothing there. I was so sure I would find a clue, so sure that I would find my way back, or show that I wasn't wrong… but I was so very _wrong._ Why did I need to go there? I couldn't stop myself." She continues to ramble as Meliodas looks on, not liking how she starts to stumble over her words, "I needed to prove that I was right, but I wasn't right at all. And then I thought… I thought I was _dying."_ The last bit comes out as a whisper, her lips quivering at the declaration, and his frown deepens as she leans closer, mumbling, "I wasn't scared though, of dying then. I thought if I died, then I might see you again…"

"Elizabeth-" his voice is harsh, the sound almost a growl, but he doesn't even have enough time to finish his thought when she is throwing herself over him, kissing him soundlessly. She presses her mouth firmly against him, wrapping her arms around his neck even as her body shakes, and not an inch is between them as a strangled moan erupts from her throat and descends onto his.

She is close, so devastatingly close as she wraps her legs around his, and Meliodas' hands fly to her waist, the covers falling away as he holds her steady. She climbs into his lap, and his body freezes, his eyes wide in shock, simply letting her slide her lips against his, her arms gripping him tightly as her thighs go to either side of his hips, squeezing.

Then she is tilting his face, forcing his chin upwards, giving her more access to slant her lips against his with a shudder and a gasp. Her tongue licks his flesh teasingly, his fingers at her waist clenching and gripping the thin nightgown as she kisses him in an almost frenzy, their lips brushing together as she pulls at his lips, nipping with her teeth, inhaling with a strangled moan. She is overwhelming him as he tries to make sense of what is happening, grunting as his natural response to press his hand to her back and deepen this causes his skin to warm, but the overwhelming confusion stops him. Her fingers behind his head curl in his hair, pleasure rippling down his neck as she tugs on the strands, and her other palm slides down to press flat against his chest. Meliodas can feel her hot breath against him as she pants. Her mouth is so familiar, the feel and the taste of her the same, and yet he holds back.

"Meliodas," she cries softly, urging him into another moan as Elizabeth seals her mouth on his again, both of them groaning as her tongue delves greedly, and the last bit of his reserve snaps as he starts to kiss her back. He sucks on her bottom lip as she makes a delicious little noise, and then her tongue is sliding against his as her hand releases the grip on his hair and trails down to his neck. She tilts her body forward, pressing her chest against his, and Meliodas rubs circles along her lower back before sliding his hands over her hips and down her legs. Her nightgown rides up, exposing her smooth skin, and he squeezes his hands on her thighs.

Meliodas is losing himself, sinking into her kiss and the way her body wraps around his, even as a voice in the back of his mind urges him to stop. This isn't right, he knows this isn't right, but he cannot help himself to the taste of her mouth, the familiar feel of her skin, the comforting weight of her body on his. The kiss stretches on, the passion between them increasing by the moment, when Elizabeth begins to move against him.

She rocks her hips as Meliodas moves his hands under her nightgown, wrapping around to grip her bare body underneath. He holds her hips tightly as she moves, slowly grinding against him. Heat sears through him from where they touch, and it is almost a relief after the turmoil from the past few days to feel this way with her, to be with her like this. But when he feels his body start to respond to the movement of hers, he opens his eyes, reason clawing its way back into his consciousness. "Elizabeth," he groans, pulling his mouth from hers even as she moves to follow.

 _"Sir Meliodas,"_ she chokes out, pressing her hips down, gasping as she digs her fingers into his shoulders, and he freezes, stilling his hands.

Hearing her call him that clinches his resolve. He grips the sides of her face, forcing her to stop and look at him. The confusion in Elizabeth's clouded eyes makes his throat tighten, and then he pulls her against him, holding her tightly against his chest as her trembling arms circle around him.

And they stay like that, for a long moment.

Pressing his cheek against her hair, Meliodas thinks of the Holy Knight, the one he had just visited. Almost against his will the parallels enter his mind; how the man had slowly lost his sense of self, his body wasting away, too far gone to even recognize his loved ones. Meliodas can see it now, how Elizabeth keeps stumbling over words, how her eyes would start to go hollow and unfocused, it's all so reminiscent of what his family had said had happened too; her decisions unpredictable, her behavior unstable, as she would quickly move further and further away from the wife he knows.

Meliodas focuses on keeping his breathing steady as he keeps his arm around her, pressing his cheek to the side of her head, and even as Elizabeth begins to relax against him, going limp, he holds her tightly, and makes a silent promise that this will not happen to her. _He will not lose Elizabeth like this._ Whatever is causing this, whoever is behind this, he will find a way to end it once and for all.


	13. Nothing Worth Having

**A/N:** I'm just lying here, thinking about my time as a shark. The ocean is an unforgiving mistress. But now I have returned to do mature, responsible, adult things. Like choosing to eat ice cream before dinner and wearing my pajamas all day while sipping on wine, and _paying taxes._

BettyBest2: We are happy you are happy, because happiness is a great thing to keep. Especially seeing how down right _evil we are to poor Elizabeth._ Elaine you ask? It might be for reasons that I am not at liberty to say, for Lickitysplit keeps me on a tights schedule you see. And adding another twenty chapters for a backstory might be what pushes my love over the edge to stuff my body in a trunk and throw me down a really steep hill.

Doubleminor20: Why thank you love. I'll be sure to release your attention from my net when this story is over. Until then, we welcome you. _**strokes you with creepy tenderness**_

MarianaBuBuLuBu: Hello our resident undead ghost! Thank you love!

Vhosek: We are so happy that you love to beat up jerks too. We beat up a lot of people in our stories, mostly the people we love most.

CaptainTwiggy0918: Like father, like son. Yep. All of us would like to give Meliodas a hug, but Lickity and I are so busy planning mean stuff we don't think he'd appreciate it. The mystery of our mysteries will have to stay a mysterious mystery for now my love.

Chapter Thirteen: Nothing Worth Having

* * *

When Meliodas wakes he can feel Elizabeth beginning to stir against him. He sighs, peeking an eye down at her. The top of her head is resting right below his chin; draped against him and pressed tightly against his chest, her cheek lies snug to his skin, her arms circled around him, and he gently rubs up and down her back with his palms. When Elizabeth shifts against him, stretching a bit as she wakes up, he plants a kiss on the top of her head. "Good morning," he murmurs against her hair.

Lifting her head to look at him, Elizabeth's eyes are still tinged with sleep as she blinks, only to realize she is only inches from his face, while a slow smile spreads over his. Her silver hair is a mess and her cheeks blush into an adorable pink as she looks down at his broad shoulders, her eyes sweeping down his naked chest, and she stutters out, "Good morning- I-I didn't mean to sleep-" She starts to move away, but Meliodas just tightens his arms around her.

Elizabeth freezes, looking at him again in slight confusion until he tilts his face down to give her a soft kiss to her forehead, and a small squeak puffs out of her lips as her entire face burns red. She stutters uselessly, as he smiles brightly.

"I'm glad you're here," he murmurs again, and he truly is; happy to hold her so closely, happy that they can enjoy this familiar moment, and Meliodas gazes contently at her red hued cheeks. Elizabeth returns it with a small smile, her shoulders relaxing, but not a moment later there is a rather loud knock on their door, interrupting them and causing Elizabeth to jump.

Meliodas growls, his head thumping back onto his pillow as he closes his eyes. "Well. Something had better be on fire," he huffs while Elizabeth laughs softly, moving over slightly so that he can extract himself from underneath her, throwing off the covers and stalking to the door. He throws it open with a bland, "What can I do for ya?" to find Margaret there.

She freezes, before looking down.

"Oh!" she says in surprise, her eyes shooting back up to meet his bored half lidded ones. "I'm sorry-Your Grace- Melio- I didn't-" The princess turns her eyes to the wall, her ears reddening, and Meliodas looks down. He may not be dressed, but he is decent. Mostly.

"Are you alright, Margaret?" Elizabeth asks, coming around the bed behind them.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," she says, stepping into the room, and she coughs softly into her hand to steady herself. "But there's something that needs the queen's attention." She looks at Elizabeth, who looks back in surprise, and says, "The delegation from Reikness arrived two days ago. I've been keeping them busy, but they want to meet with the queen. I told them that she has been ill, but I didn't want to go into too many details…" Margaret twists her hands, looking between the two monarchs. "There is a trade agreement that is hanging in the balance here, and we need their help with the pirates in the East Sea. If we offend them-"

"I get it," Meliodas sighs, "Why don't I come and meet with them?" His mouth twists into a half smile. "I know I'm not Elizabeth, but perhaps the king will do for them?"

"Yes," Margaret nods her head furiously. "That would be wonderful, Sire. I will invite them to come this afternoon, so you can have some time to look over everything and prepare."

Meliodas nods and ushers her out as she thanks him again, clearly relieved, and he sighs loudly as the door shuts behind the retreating princess. He thumps his head against the wood, twice, before he turns and smiles. "I guess that's that, then," he grumbles, looking over at Elizabeth. "Sorry about this. This is what happens when I let things pile up. I'll handle it as quickly as possible. They won't know what hit them!" he grins as he walks towards a chest of drawers.

"It's alright," she says pleasantly, resting her hands on the bed to smooth down the covers. "I understand. I'm just sorry I can't help… it sounds like something I should be doing myself." Elizabeth frowns, biting her lip.

"Hey, Elizabeth." Meliodas walks over to her, slipping a hand around her waist gently as he watches her reaction. "I don't mind," he says firmly, smiling brightly. "I think I can handle this." He pauses before joking, "And Ban's always there to throw around some muscle too. You need to... focus on getting well."

With a final squeeze, he releases her and goes to the closet, pulling out a change of clothes. _Why did he say that?_ Meliodas curses himself as he pulls on a pair of pants and a formal shirt. The last thing he should be doing right now is reminding her about the fact that her memories are gone and that she was...

He shakes off the thought, and when he emerges, he is amused to see that Elizabeth has made the bed, and can hear her making noise in the washroom. A soft humming can be heard behind the door, and he sits on the bed, waiting for her to come out. He can feel as one of his more idiotic lopsided smiles slides over his face as he thinks of how many times he has done exactly this. Meliodas now realizes how many little moments he had taken for granted before, moments like waiting for her to get ready or having an early morning snuggle. It had become as normal as everything else, and two decades had gotten himself into a routine. When this is over, he promises himself, he will appreciate these times even more, cherish these little things only he and Elizabeth share. He shifts in place, jittery energy making him tap his foot.

She is a vision as always when she returns to the bedroom, a long pale gown flowing around her and her shoulders back with royal grace, and Meliodas cannot help the swell of pride as he escorts her down to breakfast. It's almost like every other morning they've shared together in the castle, until Elizabeth grabs his arm and pulls him to stop, tugging him slightly out of view before they can enter the dining hall.

"What is it?" he asks curiously as she stammers hesitantly.

"I was wondering," she says slowly, "if you have thought about what you will say to- to Tristan?" Elizabeth practically whispers his name, leaning in closer to him.

Meliodas frowns, tilting his head to the side. Huh. In truth, he had not thought about his son and the trouble of the previous night. He will have to deal with him eventually, but for now says, "I don't know if there is much to say. I think I have made my decision on his punishment clear last night."

"His punishment?" Elizabeth whispers, harshly, her brows scrunching up and her hands wringing. "Tristan _saved_ me. He deserves our thanks, not punishment."

"Elizabeth," Meliodas replies, "He lost control. He nearly killed those men. If that blast had hit you-"

"But- but it didn't hit me," she insist, "Nor them. He… but he didn't cause that blast, did he?"

Meliodas clears his throat, nodding. "I'm not saying that becoming a Holy Knight is out of the question completely. I'm not taking his sword," he continues. "I'm saying he needs to wait, to hold off until he gets a hold of this."

"Sir Meliodas," Elizabeth looks at him with a critical look that is so familiar, how she always looked right before she said something in court, that he jerks from it, and she continues softly. "How much of your past have you told him about, exactly?" When he doesn't answer, she simply nods, more pensive than anything as she turns to walk into the dining hall. He lets out a huff and follows behind, his hands in his pockets, but he moans internally when he sees Margaret waiting for him with a stack of books and papers.

 _The papers were almost half his size!_

He takes his seat and she immediately hands him the first set to look over, ignoring how he drops it cold on the table next to his plate, and his eyes remain steadily on Elizabeth. To his disappointment she takes a seat next to Elaine a few feet away, who looks extremely tired and drawn out in her seat, more than one cup of tea around her as she swirls a large amount of sugar into her newest brew; next to her sits Lancelot, eating an incredible pile of food despite the very glum look on his face, somehow looking miserable with of a stack of food that almost reaches his chin. Meliodas gives a half-hearted attempt to stay focused on Margaret, who tells him more about the trade deal, and further negotiations with royal officials, but he cannot help but watch the two women speak quietly together over their breakfasts. This too is unfortunately familiar.

Whenever Ban or he had done _something,_ it was always impossible to get around those two, the other throwing a nonverbal backswing at the first sign of an offense.

In between the delegation's demands and Elizabeth seeming to ignore him in favor of her own large cup of tea, the maids pouring kettle after kettle, his mind is all over the place.

But Meliodas doesn't have much time to think of Tristan, until the young man arrives at breakfast.

He glances up and they lock gazes.

His son flinches before shaking his head softly and looks down, and he quickly walks to the other end of the room, favoring one side more than the other as he tries to hide his tell tale limp. His hair is sticking up more on one side of his head, his collar undone, completely opposite of his usual pristine image. Meliodas notes his dark rimmed eyes from the lack of sleep, and as he plops sullenly down into a chair as one of the servers brings him a plate of food, he doesn't even pick up his fork. Meliodas spies Lancelot trying to get his son's attention, but Tristan's eyes remain down, trained steadily and blankly on the table.

He gives a sweeping glance across the room, Elizabeth catching his eye, pleading at him silently with pouty lips, and his shoulders droop. He gives a little shake of his head, her expression almost too much for him, so he waves off Margaret mid-sentence and stands. With another glance towards his wife, he stands up straight and walks over to where Tristan is sitting, who is picking at his food, but his son doesn't even notice him approach.

"Come on, let's go talk," Meliodas says firmly, putting a hand on the back of Tristan's chair, but he just shrugs and says flatly, "There's nothing to talk about," not even looking up.

"Right." Meliodas folds his arms. "Now do you want to go somewhere and talk, or should we do this here?"

"I don't care," Tristan snaps at him, looking absolutely miserable, and Meliodas frowns.

"There is plenty to talk about, starting with your decisions since your return," Meliodas draws out, giving him a once over as his son stabs his eggs. What happened to his agreeable, dependable son? Since when has he become so stubborn? Out of the corner of his eye he sees Diane and Ban walk in, the giant in another brightly colored dress and small, and Ban yawns loudly as he scratches his scalp, and they join Elizabeth and Elaine at their table.

"You can save your lecture," Tristan says.

His eyes swivel back to him as his patience starts to wear a bit thin. If Tristan insists on doing this in front of everyone, then that's what they will do. "I don't think you understand how serious this is," Meliodas replies.

Tristan sighs. "I'm sure you're going to tell me anyway."

Meliodas squeezes his eyes shut, finding patience. He looks down at his son with narrowed eyes and thinks of how long it had been since he felt this way towards one of his children, particularly Tristan, this strange mix of parental apprehension and disappointment that makes him want to hug him and strangle him at the same time.

"You've disappointed me, Tristan," he says. "Whether it was on purpose or not, you put several lives in danger, real danger, including your mother, after you swore you would protect her. You disobeyed a direct order from your king. You sent a magic attack at a group of Lioness' citizens, intending them great harm." He pauses to gauge Tristan's reaction, and when there is none, he places a hand on his hip and says, "Did I forget anything?"

Everyone is watching, even the maids as Tristan shrugs. "You forgot about us taking Mother to a shady bar. And that she collapsed. Oh, and Lancelot had Arondight too."

This is… familiar? Meliodas grinds his teeth, his eyes becoming half lidded. He was acting like Gilthunder had as a child, completely petulant. And Meliodas also remembers how he had always had to whack Gil on the head to knock him out of his funk. Would that work? "I'll deal with Lancelot, don't worry about that." He can feel the eyes of the room on him, but he cannot stop himself in his growing anger to say next, "You should look at the king when he is speaking to you."

Tristan doesn't move for a moment, staring ahead, until he slowly lifts his face to look upwards, and to Meliodas' shock his son shows no anger. No, instead, Tristan face remains stoic, while his eyes hold nothing but pain, and Meliodas lurches a little at the sight.

"I know... I screwed up, alright? I get it. I almost killed those men. I almost- _killed Mom."_ His voice twists with the last part, causing Meliodas' chest to constrict, but before he can say anything Tristan rushes on, his voice rising with emotion and volume, "I agree with you. I don't deserve to be a Holy Knight. You should take my sword, I'm sure my teachers would agree. I should-I should just-"

He stands, nearly knocking over his chair and Elizabeth is up on her feet. "I'm going to go. I can go on another training trip." He's already walking as Meliodas shoots out a hand, grabbing him by the arm, and he twist back to look at his father with grim eyes, "Just don't take this out on Lancelot, father. I could have stopped all this, but I didn't."

"Hey!" Lancelot shouts from his table, standing and yanking his arm away from his mother who is attempting to pull him back down. "Don't listen to him! I'm the one who said we should go, not Tristan."

"Lancelot," Elaine hisses, "you're only going to-"

"No, Ma, stop." Lancelot walks around the table and stops when he is within eyesight of the king. "Tristan didn't want to do it. He said over and over it was a bad idea. But the queen wanted to go, and I'm the one who said we should help her. So if you have to blame anyone, then blame me."

"Is that true?" Ban says, moving to stand next to him, leaning over his kid, and Elizabeth steps closer as she brings a hand up to her mouth, clearly unsure what to do as her fingers tremble.

"Yeah," Lancelot answers, looking down at his shuffling feet, _"Yes,_ it was me."

"It doesn't matter," Tristan says sharply. "Lancelot only did it to protect her. Plus, he's the one that saved us from the-what did you call them? Sand crawlers? And he got us out of there after mom- the queen-" He pauses and swallows, his eyes darting briefly to Elizabeth. "He stopped that guy's attack, too. Lancelot acted like a knight, and I did not."

Meliodas watches and listens, not moving or speaking. He can see in his son's eyes that he is telling the truth, believes in this truth, which makes everything all the more complicated. "It doesn't excuse the fact that the both of you went against my wishes."

"They might have gone against your wishes," Ban says, pointing out a key fact with a drawl, "but come on Capt'n, they were obeying the queen's."

"Yes!" Elizabeth all but jumps into their conversation, rushing forward to stand next to Lancelot. "You can not blame them for- for following my orders! It was my fault entirely that they were put into this situation- I, I was the one who was unreasonable and purposely ran off without thinking of the wellbeings of others-"

"Stop," Lancelot pleads with a hiss to her, and then Diane is standing too, shouting with her hands on her hips, "If Elizabeth thought it was important to go, then it was! She would never do something on purpose if she thought people would get hurt!" Elizabeth's mouth snaps shut at that comment, a pained look coming over her.

"Don't you think you're being a bit hard on them?" Elaine says in her calm but stern way, and Diane is nodding vigorously.

"Hey!" Meliodas turns and faces the rest of them angrily, pointing a finger. "I'm not the bad guy here! This isn't -" he shouts; however the door bangs open, the wood slamming into the wall and the knights standing by the entrance jump, startled as everyone else.

Merlin strolls in, her cape swishing dramatically by her feet, a smile on her face, and everyone turns to look at her as she walks to the center of the room. "There you all are!"

Meliodas eyebrow twitches.

She walks up to the top of the table, flopping down at the head chair like she truly owns the place, and crosses her legs as she leans back, "I may have some good news."

Everyone pauses and looks at one another, and then everyone looks at the king.

"You know what-" Meliodas holds up a hand, "Merlin, just, just what is it?"

She smiles and tilts her head, her fingers clasping together, and her her elbows rest on the arms of the chair. "I just received word from Barsil. The island is visible and we've been invited by the Great Leader to go."

"What's Barsil?" Diane and Elizabeth ask together, and Meliodas folds his arms. "I've heard of it. It's where they make the spell beads," he explains, his brows pulled down in thought. "The trees on the island have different magical properties, but you can only get there when it's visible, and that only happens once every few years."

"Actually," Merlin corrects him with a smile, "there's no set time. It's only when the Great Leader wants it to be seen." Meliodas frowns at that, remembering just how _hard_ it had been to get the last batch of beads for the kingdom a few years back. Huh, so someone controlled that?

"What does that have to do with anything?" Ban says curtly, and Merlin leans forward a bit in excitement.

"Because," she brings a finger up to her red painted lips in a shushing motion, as if she was indulging a great secret. "The Great Leader is the one person in all of Britannia who knows everything there is to know about magic. From the moment he is born; _supposedly_ he is taught magic before he is even old enough to speak. I've sent to him about what's been happening here and asked him to look at Elizabeth. He's agreed to help and see if he can tell what is wrong." She pauses for dramatic effect and looks at all of their surprised faces, staying the longest on Meliodas' face in delight, and then Merlin's smile breaks into a huge grin as she continues, "But we must be off at once! So who is coming?"

Everyone begins murmuring at once, and with the distraction, Tristan tugs himself free from Meliodas' grip, giving a tight and quick bow to his father before he all but storms out of the room, Lancelot following behind quickly. Meliodas huffs in frustration, steadying himself to go after him, but Elizabeth's hand on his arm as she comes to stand by his side keeps him from following him out. Instead, he turns and looks at her as she gazes back down at him sadly. "I'm sorry," she says "I thought if you-if you talked to him-"

Meliodas shrugs. "He'll come around. He's just being stubborn."

Elizabeth nods, chewing on her lower lip for a moment before sighing. "Well this is good news, though, isn't it? Do you think this will really help?"

"I don't know if this is a good idea," he says slowly, looking over her face. "You just got back, and now Merlin wants to take you somewhere else? And we don't even know if the Great Leader can even do anything anyway."

"But if this Great Leader can tell me what is wrong…" she says softly. "Besides, this-this might be a good thing. I can take Tristan with me, and give both of you some space."

Meliodas shakes his head. "I don't know about that either. He doesn't seem himself at all. Maybe you should take Hawk instead."

"He's-he's my son, isn't he?" Elizabeth says quietly, and Meliodas feels a pang in his chest. "I can handle him."

"I suppose it will be alright, since I'll be there-"

Elizabeth is quick to shake her head, and his frown is back. "You have work to do here. You promised Margaret, remember?"

 _Now that was just not fair,_ Meliodas all but growls at the thought, and grumbles under his breath, "I don't want you going alone."

"She won't be alone," Diane interjects, smiling brightly as she pops up beside them, winking as she pumped her first in the air. "I'm going with her! And so is Merlin."

With his hands on his hips, Meliodas turns in his spot and looks behind his back, giving an annoyed look at Merlin who is still sitting and smirking in his chair. "I guess that's decided then," he says. Again.

And his eyebrow twitches.

* * *

Elizabeth is relieved when the servants finally leave her room and she can have a moment of peace. They spent the rest of the morning in a flurry of packing and preparations and planning and counter planning for her newest journey, and Elizabeth was a bit overwhelmed by it all. Her head was simply spinning from how all but _organized_ the mayhem was. Despite being a princess- _queen,_ she reminds herself- she is still used to her life in the Boar's Hat, of them just shrugging in the morning, throwing a dart at the map and heading out in that roundabout direction, and she found giving orders to the very eager girls packing her bags a bit intimidating.

To be honest, the first time someone asked her where she wanted a certain formation of guards to be set, she froze.

Now she collapses into an overstuffed chair, throwing herself at it as she wonders how long until they set out, and as she toes off her shoes with a sigh and leans over, there is a short rap on the door. She groans as the door clicks open, and when Meliodas pops his head in he raises his eyebrows at her shoulders slump. "Sorry to disappoint you," he jokes, walking into the room.

"I'm sorry," she sighs, looking over at him with a prominent pout. "It- It's not you at all, Sir Meliodas. I'm just enjoying the quiet for a moment." She glances down at her slippers that were thrown to the side, remembering how she really needed to rest her aching feet.

Meliodas steps over to her chair with nod, using a hand to playfully sweep her hair back over her shoulder as she looks up at him. "Well, I'm escaping Margaret for a minute. I told her I had to come and check on you before you left."

Elizabeth swallows when his hand does not pull back, and he leans forward even closer as she smiles up at him. "How is all that going?" she asks softly, aware of the bare inches between them, but Meliodas shrugs, nonplussed. "Nothing I can't handle. Don't worry, it'll be fine." His fingers sweep through her hair again, making her shiver. "I don't know when Merlin is going to snatch you up, so I wanted to make sure I said a proper goodbye."

"It will only be a few days," she reassures him, sitting up a bit to lean towards him. His hands trail down by her scalp near her neck, and she feels the prickle of goosebumps all the way down to her feet.

He nods again, watching her with smiling green eyes that betray nothing of what he is doing to her, and his hands shift deeper until they press against her scalp, "I know." The his hands move back, barely touching the ends of her hair to cup the side of her face, and she blinks up at him, still getting accustomed to the easy way he touches her. His thumb strokes her cheek as he says, "You will come back to me, won't you?"

Elizabeth tenses, giving a little shake of her head, confused by the question. _Why wouldn't she come back?_ With a nervous and soft laugh, she says, "Of course I will." Slowly she lifts her own hand to comes up to rest against the back of his own.

Meliodas gazes down at her, his expression suddenly serious, and she feels as though he is searching for something in her face. But then he smiles, breaking the heavy moment, and he leans down to give her a smacking kiss on her lips. She giggles even as her ears burn something fierce, her cheeks glowing red, and he pecks her over and over again, before finally catching her mouth for a long moment.

The kiss is absolutely _mind numbing,_ and as she leans in with her entire body arching into the kiss, she sighs.

"Elizabeth," he murmurs against her mouth. He presses a knee on the seat next to her so he can move closer to her, and she tilts her chin up to allow his mouth to stay connected with hers.

"Hmmm?" she says, closing her eyes, his thumb still stroking her cheek gently, the soft pad feeling wonderful against her skin.

He kisses her softly again before saying, "I asked the physician to come and see you before-"

"What!?" she gasps, jolting back in the chair with her face flamed bright red, and Meliodas leans back a bit. She looks at him furiously, a strange fluttering starting to build up in her chest as she sat up straight in her seat, and she gives him her best authoritative look. "I- I don't need a doctor! I feel _fine!"_

Meliodas slips his hand back into her hair, and Elizabeth jerks back slightly, annoyed. "Then see him for me, so I can sleep while you're gone. Okay?"

Elizabeth sucks in a breath before letting out a huge sigh, and decides that perhaps she could do this one thing for him, after all they had been through the past two days. Meliodas grins and dips down to steal another kiss. "Thank you."

She doesn't respond for a moment, but allows him to kiss her until she feels her exasperation melt away. It doesn't take long to at all, of course, with him showing her such lovely affection. And when the door raps again, he smiles against her mouth. "Hurry home, okay?" Then he kisses her a final time and says, "I love you."

Then he's moving away, answering the door, but Elizabeth stays frozen in her chair.

It was such a little thing to him- almost like a throwaway comment- but to her… She feels the room tilt a bit, and she presses a hand to her face, feeling an incredible heat rising beneath her skin. _He said he loves me,_ she thinks over and over, all the while scolding herself, _Of course he did, you're married, remember?_

But instead of that thought knocking off the shock, it only deepens it as she remembers, yes, _she was also married to him._

Hyperventilating, was that what she was doing?

"Your Grace?" Elizabeth looks up, startled, and the physician is there, his assistant laying the bag of instruments on a table. The elderly man looks at her in concern and reaches out a hand to touch her forehead. "Are you alright?"

Elizabeth swallows thickly and nods. Her heart is still racing, so fast it feels like it's pounding away at her rib cage and she wipes her hands on her skirt, the palms feeling suddenly clammy. He gives her another curious look before moving to the table, and Elizabeth takes a steadying breath as his final words echo in her head, over and over. _Meliodas loves me._

 _Meliodas loves me._

There had been so many times when she had thought he might feel that way… so many times when she thought he might say it, and she would say it in return, and hearing it so casually from him, as an afterthought, without her own opportunity to say it too… it throws her off balance. Incredibly off balance. Elizabeth sees herself at the Boar's Hat again, this time after they left the druids in Ishtar. Even with the threat of the Ten Commandments looming so terribly over them, everyone is still able to be so excited and happy with their training, with their own power levels increasing. Hawk is acting silly, and Gilthunder and Howzer keep showing off, laughing at Arthur and poking at the cat on his head; even Hendrickson is smiling, comfortable, and they enjoy an evening together, the tournament the next day fueling the excitement…

The tournament… Meliodas smiles at her from behind the bar, his hair a mess and poking up here and there, but his smile is soft as he stands there with the shirt she had gifted him, and she smiles back, her heart making a little turn in her chest, relieved to see him back to _himself_ after the terrible trial in the cave. He had been so wonderful all afternoon, almost the perfect gentleman, making her feel special after her spectacular failure at her own trial. They gaze at each other, and she is so happy, so thankful for that moment, and she is sure he will say it, and tell her that he loves-

"Your Grace?"

Elizabeth snaps out of the memory, looking around with wide eyes, finding herself back in her bedroom, gripping the arms of the chair tightly. The assistant is standing in front of her, looking at her with raised eyebrows. "I-I'm fine," she says, wincing at the shakiness in her voice. Looking around, she says, "Where is the doctor?"

"He just stepped out to get something we forgot. Can I ask you some questions?" Elizabeth nods, still shaking off the strange feeling, and he continues, "Have you been feeling steady? Anything hurting? Any headaches?"

"O-Oh," Elizabeth clears her throat. "No, I haven't had anything like that."

"Any strange behaviors?"

She takes a deep breath, wondering what to say, so she simply shakes her head.

"Any more flashbacks?"

Stuck again, she pauses. If she admits to anything-like the laughing at Vaizel, or getting trapped in her memories of the Assassins or Meliodas-she is sure they won't let her leave. So, she decides to evade the question. "Nothing like that, exactly."

She bites her lip, afraid he can see right through her, and he looks at her carefully again, his face completely calm. "Any strange dreams?"

Elizabeth breathes a sigh of relief. This one she can answer. "No, no strange dreams."

The assistant looks genuinely surprised. "That's… excellent, Your Majesty." He gives her a smile, and the queen smiles back brightly, happy to know she didn't have to worry about that. At least. "Well, I wish you well on your journey."

"Thank you," Elizabeth nods, and watches as he moves back to the table. Suddenly she is very, very eager to go. The sooner she finds the answer to her illness, the sooner she can get back to her life.


	14. Maybe Next Time

**A/N:** I am in love with this chapter as it has one of my favorite things; the ocean. One day I will return to that place and find myself as a shark once again. I find my constant obsession with Sharknado as a _good_ thing. Lickitysplit on the other hand, might be planning a homicide. We're so in love it's disgusting.

BettyBest: Hello our love. The moment I saw your review I screamed BETSY and lickity had to remind me screaming is not actually breathing. Thank you for loving us overall. We hope our score is at least an 8.5 on the cards or we want a rematch. No, we don't think they will ever get too many smooches. Hehehehe

MarianaBuBuLuBu: Thank you, we plan to really really keep it up love, until our lives fall apart and all we have is this.

Kamira: You might suck at reviewing, but you are here our love. Thank you, we try to make back stories for our back stories to our complex character story designs, that have no real meaning for the story and most likely won't even be put in there, but we must. You should see how Lickity finally has to tie me down and duck tape my mouth after a couple hours of ranting. Awww thank you love.

Doubleminor20: Thank you! We're glad that you like our Meliodas being all Meliodas like, our situations are overcome with drama, aren't they?

Vhosek: Yes, those two aren't getting a lot of time to snuggle in this story are they? Huh, we'll have to figure out how to push more of that into the plan, between our drama and the awful things we have planned for them. _**still laughing evily for days**_

CaptainTwiggy0918: We do not play around with our evil plans; they are our babies. Yes, Elizabeth is so adorable, we love her so much, and that is why we are so terrible to her. It all makes sense in our heads. Tristan has a little way to go as a prince charming, huh? But don't take off that Tristan T-shirt just yet.

sassykitten1701: I swear, we slave over this kitchen day in and day out for these words. If we tried to write even _more_ our fingers would fly off and make a break for the Canadian border.

Chapter Fourteen: Maybe Next Time

* * *

Even inside the grand hall of the castle, the late afternoon chill isn't a surprise, as it is mid-way through Autumn; and neither is it to see a mist or a slight fog with frostbite dusting over on the ground outside in the courtyard. The group leaving the castle is finally finishing their last preparations, maidservants running around here and there, and the sun is now only peeking over the horizon, the sky turning to dust with darkness. The queen, however, stands by the side, sighing, because already the journey isn't going so well.

Draped over Elizabeth is the largest, warmest fur winter coat she had ever had to wear, the form completely swallowing her in a massive dark brown blanket, from her ankles to the top of her head.

 _This is preposterous,_ Elizabeth pouts, standing by a giant pile of belongings stacked beside her, Lancelot sitting cross legged at the very top of a case, quiet and still for once. She is sure to look ridiculous-and it isn't even that cold! But by day five of her waking up in the castle after the events of the tournament, it seems everyone is _adamant_ to listen to the physician's suggestions. She is to be kept safe and comfortable at all times, which apparently includes _sweating under the weight of this coat._

She stands there awkwardly, watching as more bags and cases are brought over, somewhat marveling over the height of it all, and she imagines the smiling face of Meliodas in her mind to grumble at while she fiddles with a sleeve. He still is not finished with his meetings, much to her disappointment. Elizabeth had been hoping to see him again before she left, to try and say those words she did not get to before he left her in the bedroom. But she hates the thought of interrupting him, and she gives a little shake of her head as she once again has difficulty imagining Meliodas as a diplomat.

She shuffles on her feet as the last of their things are brought out, wondering what would happen if she were to accidentally trip and lose her coat- maybe that would work?- when she sees Tristan walk out with Merlin, a large pack slung over her son's shoulder. And he does not look happy.

He walks stiffly towards her as Merlin checks the piles one last time, Diane crouching down to talk briskly with Lancelot. Elizabeth tries to meet his eyes as he stands next to her. "Tristan!" she says brightly. "I'm so glad you are coming."

"Hello, Mother. You did request my presence for this," he says, and his face gives nothing away as he briefly glances at her in the corner of his eye. "How are you?"

"Oh, um," Elizabeth tugs on her collar, "I'm fine. And you?"

"I'm fine," he answers.

Elizabeth nods, waiting for him to say anything more, but he doesn't. "I know that this morning-it was difficult for everyone, and-are you okay? How are-"

"I said I'm fine," he replies, politely but rather a bit cold, and turns away from her, walking a few steps away.

They stand there in an awkward silence, neither saying anything more, and Lancelot sighs loudly and flops back onto the briefcase above them when finally King floats in.

"Now that we're all here, let's be off!" Merlin proclaims. A huge smile lights up Merlin's face, before she snaps her fingers, and a bright light takes over the courtyard.

Elizabeth is grateful that she doesn't stumble this time when a second later they materialize at the port. There are multiple vessels around the area, giant sails being pulled and ladders being set or ropes being thrown. Men are huiling large sacks of odd things over their shoulders or on pulleys, and every way she turns there were orders being shouted around. She blinks rapidly as she gets her bearings, before hearing Merlin say, "Your Grace?"

Elizabeth nods and looks up at her. Merlin is standing next to a shorter gentleman. The man reaches her shoulder, but he clearly makes up his height with his presence as he grins up at her, a hand slipped into his shirt pocket and a large curved sword on his hip. "May I present our captain, Captain Gene."

"It is an honor," he says with a sweeping bow, his coat lapels flapping out and the multiple gold rings on each of his finger very noticeable, and Elizabeth stifles a giggle and he looks up at her through the fringe of his hair with a cheerful expression. She holds out a hand through the opening in the coat and he takes it gratefully. "Thank you for being so kind as to take us all on such short notice."

"Always a pleasure, Your Majesty," he says. "Now if it pleases Your Grace, I have some accommodations ready for you and the other lovely ladies, and these fine gentlemen too." He gives a grin as he sweeps his eyes around their strange party, spinning in a circle and wiggling his fingers, before bellowing at the top of his lungs, "All right, men, let's get her loaded!"

Elizabeth jumps a mile, and the captain sweeps back towards the dock, shouting more orders as men scurry from the ship to collect their belongings and carry them on board. She watches as Tristan walks on without a word, Lancelot and King trailing behind, and Elizabeth sighs. "Hey Elizabeth!" Diane calls to her, and she looks up at the giantess. "Are you ready to go or what?"

She smiles and nods, but then the captain is shouting again, pointing fervently upwards, "I can't take a giant on this ship! You've lost your mind!"

Diane growls in frustration, but then breaks into a grin. "Oops, I forgot!" she says, pulling something from her backpack and popping it into her mouth. A moment later she is shrinking, slowly becoming human-sized, amazingly her clothing doing the same, and Elizabeth is ogling alongside the captain and the men as they stop their tasks to watch with gaping expressions. "There we go!" Diane giggles, before catching sight of everyone watching her. "What?" she shouts menacingly, and they quickly scramble back to loading the ship.

She turns to Elizabeth and frowns. "Why did you bring that big coat anyway?"

Elizabeth looks down at herself with a flush. "The uh-the physician, he thought-he said I might need it."

"Huh." Diane shrugs. "Seems a bit much to me." She turns and heads towards the walkway to the ship, and Elizabeth follows behind.

But not before she discreetly tosses the coat over the side of the dock.

* * *

The evening is a mostly jovial one, and the six of them enjoy a rousing meal on calm waters with the captain inside at his table, which was very cramped but comfortable enough. Elizabeth was doing much better on the water, somehow- which was an absolutely amazing _relief_ \- a few of the men claiming the swaying of the ship could do that, but Lancelot was so busy running around and investigating _everything,_ that he almost missed dinner. He spent the end of the afternoon scouring every corner of the ship, learning everyone's names and their jobs and how to work the sails and what that strange stand at the top of the tallest sail did and the funny terms for all of the people and places and things on board.

And what the hell that weird six point compass was-

"Will you stop and sit!" King finally yells, floating near the ceiling in his anger for him to get to the table, and he bolts to slip in between Tristan and Merlin. The food is interesting though, all weird and sloppy, and he absolutely likes it, even as the other men grumble and flop the food back down with their spoons.

To his disappointment, they are all sent to bed early, the sun barely below the water's horizon, the entire sky and sea burned red, but Lancelot finds sleep difficult at first. He has a hammock in a room he shares with Tristan and King, both of whom snore, but that isn't the only reason. He lies awake for a long time, watching the moonlight come and dance in through the small window of their room, the entire room swaying _back_ and _forth_ , a fern or something that was on the small table sliding around; but instead of clearing his head he thinks about everything that happened in Vaizel, playing it over and over in his mind.

It had been _amazing._

And terrifying. And exhilarating- the battle was the biggest rush he could ever remember. He had never been out of the castle unattended long enough to get into a situation like that before, off on his own, no one trusted him enough; but at the same time his fear for the queen and for Tristan had been overshadowed by the excitement of using Arondight, having it answer to him, feeling the power flow from him into the spear. The next day however, had been miserable for everyone. The king had given it right on every account, which was the worst part, and now that they were given another chance and actually out on the sea, he couldn't sleep?

A loud snore erupts under him, and he rolls his eyes, folding his arms behind his head, looking up at the ceiling before his eyes slowly turn to stare out the small window. _Sleep sleep sleep,_ Lancelot grumbles, watching the dark waters outside.

Yeah right.

The ship's rocking picks up the next morning, the three men waking up to find their belongings half tumbled to the floor, the fern somehow positioned perfectly on top. Lancelot jolts awake with a grunt, his head popping out of his blankets when he hears Tristan hit the floor hard with a resounding _thump._ He's by the door, and it's pretty funny how he topples over his own feet when he tries to get a shoe on, a sudden jolt to the ship sending him over again.

It's less funny when he comes out to find Diane slumped over a railing crying, having come down with a terrible case of seasickness. Curled up by the side of the bow of the ship, Lancelot gags himself as she loses it again, sobbing at the end as her stomach empties itself again and again.

 _"Giants aren't meant for sea travel!"_ she wails, before heaving off of the side of the ship again, spewing as she leans almost completely over the railing. Two men shake their heads as they pass by. "Aye, she doesn't have her sea legs," one says vaguely as he drops a large bucket by her with a couple rags as Diane whimpers. "Make sure she keeps her feet on the ship lassy, less she tumbles over." He looks over at Elizabeth who nods quickly, doing her best to comfort her friend as she rubs her back, trying to send wisps of healing energy towards her to help with the nausea.

Diane's misery has a sour effect on King, the giant usually there to keep the monarch somewhat likable in Lancelot's eyes, and it compounds on his uncle's already huffy attitude. Which means he suddenly has the great idea to focus right in on one half fairy.

"Lancelot," he calls across the deck, eyes narrowing from where he's floating at the speed of the ship, and Lancelot freezes, dropping a mop, "You're not here to have fun. I brought you along to keep an eye on you, and I think it's time you actually do some real work for the day. For once." he adds the last bit sourly as he comes closer, and Lancelot cringes.

"Work?" he asks, quickly looking around for an excuse. But Merlin is on the quarterdeck with the captain, using Aldan to help them navigate towards the island, and Tristan is standing in the stern, looking out at the water with his back to the rest of the ship, and he wails in his head. _Work?!_ His uncle, he was going to have to spend time with his _uncle. Working._ Working had a whole different meaning to his Fairy kin and with nowhere to go, he resigns himself, slumping over and walking to the other open end of the ship to do whatever torture King has decided to do. Besides, he knows he'll have to hear it from his mother when they get back if he _doesn't_ do it.

Dad would high five him, sure. But mother is horrifyingly terrifying when angry. She could throw things that _turned corners to hit him_. So diving off the side of the boat and swimming home is out.

"Whoa! Hey!" Lancelot looks up, giving a shout of surprise when King produces Arondight, his eyes bulging out as his spear spits out of his uncle's pillow and into his waiting hands. His uncle floats there with his arm outstretched, staring at the weapon twice the size of his own with distaste, and his back is straight.

"You are not to use this on _anyone,"_ King warns, glaring down at him, but Lancelot is too excited to even roll his eyes at something so obvious. His hand shoots out, and Arondight zips over, hovering just by his fingers. Lancelot grins toothily, and looks around to make sure Harlequin is watching, but then the spear shoots to the side, trying to fly off of the ship. With a yelp he jumps and grabs it before it can get too far, fighting to keep a grip on it as his feet slide against the wood, pulling him closer and closer to the railing as it tries to wrench itself away.

"Arondight!" Lancelot screams in frustration, growling as it tries to tug itself loose, and King watches as he floats nearby on Chastiefol, yawning into his hand. "You have to concentrate," he tells the boy, as Lancelot jerks his weapon backwards and jumps to step on it, pinning it to the floor of the deck with his feet.

And it shakes and bucks under him like a raging animal.

 _Oh, it was on._

"Yeah, thanks," he answers with a grunt. "Any other good advice?" Arondight stills, and tentatively Lancelot moves one foot off of it; but then the spear takes off again, the handle whacking him hard in the chin before whipping around the deck and nearly knocking both the queen and Diane overboard. Two crew men have to duck as the blade comes dangerously close to slicking off their heads.

"Look out!" Elizabeth squeals, and Diane swats the weapon away, slamming a fist into the hilt with a yell, "You'll be sorry for that!" before turning to get sick over the side of the ship again.

"Command it, Lancelot," King calls, clearly annoyed. Lancelot nods and holds his hand out, his chin dropping and his eyebrows drawing together as he demands, "Spirit Spear Arondight! Stop!"

To his surprise, it does, falling to the ground with a loud clatter. Lancelot bolts over and swipes it up before it can do anything else. He pumps it into the air triumphantly and turns to see King… who is looking at him with a mixture of exasperation and displeasure. And he can't stop the blush from taking over his face. Stupid stupid.

"Uh, it listened?" Lancelot says sheepishly.

"Less bravado," King huffs, hopping onto the deck and tucking the pillow under his arm. "You've had your Sacred Spear for three years," he says, holding up three fingers for dramatic affect. "You should be a lot better at this by now."

"Well, uh," Lancelot feels heat crawling up his neck and retorts, "It worked for me fine in Vaizel." He puts a hand on his hip, mumbling as he looks to the sides. "I can use it when it counts."

King folds his arms, the bored look still on his face. "That's hardly impressive. Even a child can defend themselves when they need to."

Gritting his teeth, Lancelot tries his best not to fling the spear right at his oversized head. So what? He was half the size of his uncle and suddenly now he _was_ a child. What happened to all the talks about fairies being different from humans?

He hates it when his uncle acts like this, and it makes him feel like he's just _dying_ to say the Sacred Tree really did make a major mistake in choosing him to be the next King; and everything that came with that in their backwards, barely _functioning_ family. His fingers curl around the staff as he watches Harlequin through narrowed eyes, slinging the spear to rest on his shoulder, when suddenly the Fairy King throws his arm out, a lazy expression on his face, and an army of small spears shoot right at him.

With a yelp Lancelot swings Arondight up, his fist curling on something like instinct, and instantly it turns into the shield form. The metal is three times his height and bowed inwards to cover him completely, and Lancelot holds it in front of him with both arms as they shake against the onslaught of power King throws at him. In less than a second dozens of pings and metallic cracks sound as the small daggers glance off of the shield, broken up by his own offending magic of his protection. When the noise stops, Lancelot finally risks a glance, dispelling his fourth form spear, only to see King holding his green pillow again, curled around it still looking completely bored. "Huh," King says, turning away.

He floats away, without another glance back. Even as the men around them mutter and stare, in shock at the display of sudden magic, and Lancelot's ears burn red.

Oh, he is so past the point of fuming.

It would be so easy to send his spear after him, and for a split second, he considers it. It would be so satisfying to see him laid out, a look of surprise on his face, but Lancelot takes a deep breath. He knows that King could easily retaliate; and more than that, his parents would absolutely kill him.

And running him through, while appealing, he was still his uncle at the end of the day.

So instead, he spins and stomps off, his spear back and again resting on his shoulder, and he runs up the steps of the deck and stalks across the sterncastle until he reaches the railing of the stern. Tristan glances his way for a moment as he hops up to lean against the railing, using his feet to balance, before he looks back out over the water, and Lancelot lets out an angry huff. "Can you believe him? He's always acting like that! Did you see what he did?" Lancelot curses under his breath and glances over at the other prince, who does not even look his way. "Hey!" he barks, annoyed. "Are you even listening?"

"Yes," Tristan sighs, closing his eyes. "I heard you."

"So," Lancelot trails off, tapping his fingers trantically against the railing before he rolls his eyes, leaning over to look down at the water lapping against the rocking ship. "This is pretty much the worst trip ever."

"Well they all can't be as fun as Vaizel," Tristan says sarcastically.

Lancelot snaps his head up at his friend. "What? What is your problem?" he hisses. "You've been doing nothing but _moping_ since we got on this thing. I thought we were going to at least keep each other company."

"Sorry I don't feel like playing around," Tristan grinds out. "I have a few things on my mind."

"Playing. Right." Heaving a huge sigh, Lancelot says, "That line is going to get old really fast. We both got in trouble, you know. We both screwed up. And now we're both not going to be Holy Knights. Not anytime soon anyway."

"It's not just that," the prince retorts. There is a long silence that stretches uncomfortably between them, and Lancelot picks at a chunk of the wood on the railing. Finally, Tristan breaks the quiet and says, "You let him get under your skin. He's just trying to help you improve, but you're just worried about being right."

"No I'm not," Lancelot mutters.

"Really?" Tristan snorts. "Then why don't you have a handle on Arondight yet? It's a weapon, not a teammate. It's like you don't even want to be the Fairy King."

"What about you?" snaps Lancelot. "Turns out that Prince Perfect has a bit of a dark side, and what do you do? You just roll over. You don't even try to get the hell over it. Or, I don't know, _ask for help."_ He twirls his spear in his hand like a giant demented baton, "You're the one that lost control this time, not me. Not Lynette. I bet that really kills you too."

Tristan turns on him then, and for a second Lancelot grips Arondight, half expecting his friend to take a swing at him. They stare at each other, tension thick between them, before Tristan says, "You don't understand anything, Lancelot."

He swallows and watches Tristan walk away, guilt twisting inside his stomach. Yea, maybe he was right. Maybe they both were hitting and missing on this one. But, _at least he was willing to admit it._

* * *

Elizabeth gratefully climbs into her bed. After spending the day taking care of Diane, all she wants now is to rest.

Dinner had been a somber affair. King and Diane snapped at each other, both feeling miserable, Tristan and Lancelot sitting as _far_ away from each other as physically possible, and Merlin only gave her clipped answers to her questions about Barsil. The Captain had given her a look in the corner of his eyes, but all she could do was shrug miserably as the tense air suffocated the room. There was something going on between the boys, as they spent the evening in silence, ignoring one another. Now she lays her head on the pillow, flopping her head down with an audible plop and a small groan, before taking a deep breath as the ship rocks back and forth. Looking to the side, suddenly she misses Meliodas terribly.

She wants nothing more right now than to see him, talk to him, and lean into his comforting embrace. Perhaps then, her first time traveling on the ocean would not be so stressing.

Her mind wanders back to the night before, when she slept in Meliodas' arms all night. It had been such a relief to have his arms around her, so safe and grounded, to feel his warm body against hers as the confusion and fear from Vaizel and everything after that drifted away, and they had even-

Suddenly Elizabeth's eyes snap open.

 _Oh… oh dear._

She had kissed him last night; more than kissed him! _She had flung herself over him!_ She brings her hands up to her mouth as she squeals behind them, remembering the terrible confession. How she whispered to him that she had thought she was dying. And she _had_ thought that, remembering the tight pain in her chest, how hard it was to breathe as she had fallen. The blackness had overtaken her at the top of the arena, and she struggled for air. Elizabeth shivers, remembering the terror of hearing Tristan shout behind her. When she woke up, it was almost a relief to feel the throbbing in her head and the soreness in her body as she picked herself off the ash covered ground, because it was proof she was alive.

And then she had went and kissed him! Not the other way around-not like the kiss they had shared in the closet. And- and- and he had _been practically nude in only his boxers._

Why had she done such a thing? Her face was on _fire,_ and it felt like she was shaking with an adrenaline rush. She swallows, remembering how confused she was in that moment, all of the emotions and the fear and the exhaustion swallowing her up… and he was so close, and looking at her with so much love, that she had not been able to help herself.

Elizabeth groans as she presses her face into the pillow, imagining what Meliodas must have thought when she kissed him and climbed into his lap. Grateful that he had stopped her when he did, she takes a small bit of comfort knowing that she hadn't made a complete fool out of herself; they are married, after all, she reminds herself. And as shocking as it was to find that out, as resistant as she had been when she woke up in his bed five days ago…

Elizabeth now wants this life. She wants to be the wife and mother and queen that they expect her to be; she wants her memories back, this life _back._

But… but, perhaps this was a chance to prove to him as well, a second chance perhaps, to prove to him that his family could overcome these sorts of challenges. As her eyes close, she wonders what he is doing, her eyelids growing heavier by the second, and she hopes he was successful in helping Margaret with the negotiations? She had never imagined Meliodas being a king before; never saw them doing anything besides running the Boar's Hat. That had been her dream for so long; and yet here they are, ruling Lioness, raising a family together. It's almost overwhelming… but….

But now she is walking down the road through Vaizel.

The town is in ruins, devastation on either side of her, and Elizabeth walks slowly, clutching her hands together tightly. "Meliodas?" she calls, peering over the heaps of wood and brick and rock, but there is absolutely nothing to be seen for miles. She is completely alone.

Straight ahead is the arena, and Elizabeth walks towards it with dread. There is something up there, she knows there is. Or, rather, someone there; someone who can answer her questions and tell her what has happened to her.

The mid afternoon sun is hot, and she shrugs out of her thick coat, relieved that the fur around the collar is off of her neck. The tavern uniform is much more comfortable, much lighter, and her skin feels so much better being uncovered. As she tosses the coat to the side, she realizes she is holding something, and she pauses in her stride to open her fist.

Elizabeth discovers she is holding a pendant, a large purple diamond on a thick gold chain. She frowns, wondering where it came from. Looking around again and seeing no one, she places it around her neck, the pendant feeling heavy against her chest, and she walks down the path to the hill in the center of town.

When she reaches the base of the hill, she begins to climb. The feeling of deja vu washes over her, but Elizabeth ignores it to concentrate on finding her footing among the rubble. The pendant is growing heavier and heavier by the moment, and by the time she reaches the top, her head is bowed almost to her chest under the weight of it. Elizabeth pulls herself up over the top and collapses on the ground, yanking the chain from around her neck, and she examines it closely as she pants for breath.

"Your Grace?" Elizabeth looks up quickly at the voice, and immediately winces when she sees the doctor is there, looking at her with concern. "You're all flushed and sweating. Are you alright?"

Elizabeth nods. "Yes, I'm fine. I was just climbing is all."

"Climbing?" he says, frowning. "Climbing what?"

"Climbing… the hill…" she says, looking behind her. But all that is there are her pillows, because she is in bed. Her hands start to tremble as she realizes she has done it again, slipped away somewhere else in her memories. Elizabeth bites her lip to keep herself from crying out, and her hands grip the front of her gown, holding on tightly to the pendant that lays underneath against her chest.

The assistant comes over and sits on the bed, a pen in one hand and a scroll in the other. "Have you been experiencing any headaches?" he asks her.

"N-no," Elizabeth mutters. How long was she gone this time? How much has she lost?

"Any unusual behaviors?"

Elizabeth shakes her head, pulling the chain from around her neck. "That's a beautiful jewel, Your Grace," the assistant remarks. "Was it a wedding gift?"

"A wedding gift," she says, trying to remember. Her breath catches a bit as she notices the color grow a shade darker.

"That's right," he says, making a note on his scroll. "From your husband? The Demon King?"

"My husband," she repeats. "Meliodas." Her fingertips brush over the edges of the jewel, but then she frowns in confusion. "No, I think-I think my sister gave this to me."

"Your sister Margaret?" the assistant answers cheerily, not glancing up. "It must have been such a joy for the king to have two wonderful daughters."

Elizabeth shakes her head. "I suppose so…"

"The king has two children." Elizabeth can hear the pen scratching as she turns the pendant over and over in her hands. "Tristan and Lynette."

She nods. "Two children-" Suddenly she shakes herself. No, wait. _That wasn't right._ "Wait, I-" Elizabeth looks up, but the assistant is gone. Quickly she climbs out of bed and rushes to the door, flinging it open, but she is alone again.

Elizabeth hurries through the castle, but there is not another soul. She clutches the pendant in her hand, the jewel once again growing heavier with each step, until she reaches the front courtyard. With a yelp she runs to the doors of the gate, using all of her strength to pull one open, stumbling as it is yanked free, and Elizabeth falls to her knees.

There is a searing heat on the back of her neck, and Elizabeth cries out as her hand flies to the offending spot, rubbing it hard as the pain shoots down her spine and into her skull. _"Meliodas!"_ she screams, and the world begins to shake.

The pendant starts to pulse in her hand, and she sobs, watching it grow darker and darker. Then the glass shatters into a million tiny pieces, black wisps of energy beginning to rise from the jewel. Elizabeth drops it in horror, but instead of falling, it hovers in the air, steadily climbing up and up, until the pieces break apart and shoot out in every direction, leaving only a cloud of darkness in its wake.

Elizabeth gapes up at it, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, and then she realizes that there are giant balls of fire raining down on Vaizel. They explode everywhere, throwing up the rubble and dirt into the air all around the town below. She struggles to her feet, standing in the center of the arena, and directly above her, a circle of flame begins to bear down on her, as hot and piercing as the spot on her neck.

But then the world explodes in white, and Elizabeth realizes after a moment she is alive. She coughs into her hand as a cloud of dust swirls around her, and she is unable to see anything at first; when she looks up, she sees Meliodas is there, holding his dragon hilt sword, and her body heaves in relief to know that he saved her with _Full Counter._ Meliodas drops to the ground, crouching for a minute before he stands and turns to look at her.

With a shaking breath she gasps his name. But it is not Meliodas; this man has silver hair, not blonde.

 _The king has two children._

She stops, simply staring at this man before her, before she frowns. And for a moment she doesn't know why.

Wait. No, that didn't seem right.

She has _three_ children.

 _Every time I look at him, all I see is you._

She flinches at that, more so as he stalks towards her as she looks at him again. A shiver she can not explain runs down her skin, as his hair stands out on end, his eyes round and black, the demon marks swirling like ink over his brow and down his neck. Elizabeth stumbles back a bit as he gets closer, her eyes wide, and when he is only inches from her she slips to her knees to look up at him. Suddenly her legs feel too heavy to stand and his head tilts for a moment as he regards her with his dark, empty eyes, and then he leans forward and sniffs her.

Elizabeth shudders, trying to remain perfectly still, but then the man speaks in her ear. "Because she is not the the queen," he says, and… and it sounds like Gowther. No, that is Gowther's voice, the same she had heard in her room with Lancelot, and she gasps just as the black markings on his body surge forward like flames and down his arm. _"Massive Strike,"_ he says, this time in another voice; then he thrusts his arm forward, and the stabbing in her neck is now matched by a stabbing in her stomach. She knows this feeling well, and as she crumples to the ground, feeling her blood soaking out of her and under her, she hears Meliodas' voice again.

 _Yes, definitely just like you._

She begins to shake, convulsing with the pain, and she groans as her body is thrown around; but then she realizes it's not her that is shaking, but the hands on her shoulders, and Elizabeth gasps and bolts upright in the bed, screaming as she pushes whoever it is from her arms.

"Elizabeth! I'm so sorry!" She whips her face around to see Diane hovering over her, one hand out tentatively reaching for her. "Were you dreaming? I didn't mean to scare you!"

"Di-Diane?" Elizabeth gasps, raising a shaking hand to the back of her neck. She presses her fingers against the phantom pain that still thuds against her skin. "Is th-that you?"

Diane nods and sits on the edge of the bed, giving Elizabeth's arm a comforting pat. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to startle you awake like that. I just wanted to tell you that we've arrived! Are you alright?"

Elizabeth nods, looking around. She is back in the bed in the captain's room, back on the ship on the way to Barsil, and hopefully, some answers. "I had a-a nightmare," she breathes shakily.

"Oh really? What was it about?"

Elizabeth thinks for a minute, certain points already fading even as the terror remains, and then she shakes her head. "I- I don't really seem to remember." But she is sure she was dreaming because of the way her stomach rolls, the telltale sweat that covers her skin, and she can remember the voices, the questions and how they had scared her more than any of the rest, at least.


	15. No Time Left

A/N: There will be no stalling as we get into the chapter this time. Simply read, and enjoy.

BettyBest2: Yes that relaxing, calming boat ride turned out to be anything but. You're right to have those feelings love, there will _always_ be more.

peacerockgirl123: Thank you love _**hands you a tissue**_

MarianaBuBuLuBu: It did didn't it! Thank you, we're glad you like it.

Chapter Fifteen: No Time Left

* * *

The island of Barsil is the most amazing sight that Elizabeth had ever seen.

She had been halfway around Britannia on her travels with the Seven Deadly Sins, walking through miles of rolling hills and endless seas of grass, and had on an occasion or two visited a nearby kingdom as a younger girl. But never had she seen anything like Barsil, even in all of her wildest dreams.

The ship pulls up into a bay off the side of the island, rocking against a small surf and a thin layer of gray fog, and large pillars of rock jut out of the water here or there. Elizabeth is leaning almost halfway over the boat's railing as she looks with wide eyes, their party squeezing into a smaller boat that is lowered into the sea. Tristan assists the crew member in rowing them to the shore, King floating above them and Elizabeth steps out onto the rocky ground with excitement. Her head turns this way and that as she tries to take everything in; the water is crystal blue, almost entirely clear to where it seems they were rowing on air, and she can see all the way to the bottom as countless sea life move around beneath them. The gravel of the rocky beach was a dark slate and ahead are the slopes of great cliffs, which reaches up and up into the sky, and Diane whistles as Elizabeth is nearly knocked over trying to lean back and spy the tops. The rocks are also gray, and she thinks she can make out snow at the very top of the very highest peaks.

Further inland is a little party waiting for them, the group of a few men huddled by a path marked with large boulders covered in moss, leading further into the island. Merlin confidently walks forward, and King gives Elizabeth a hand in picking their way over the rocky shore. But before they step off of the beach and onto the greener ground before them, their leader holds up a hand, a large metal walking stick in their other. He is covered in a long purple cloak with intricate triangular designs, hiding his face and body aside from the large snow shoes, and they only see the slim fingers peeking out from inside the sleeve.

"That's far enough!" the leader says, the sharp tone echoing over the embankment, and Elizabeth starts, her feet slipping when she realizes it is the voice of a young woman. "Who are you, and what do you want?" she asks sharply, and Elizabeth feels that even behind the darkness of the girls hood, she is looking straight at her.

The two groups stare at each other for a moment, Elizabeth shifting on the slippery rocks as they look up at the group of three men and a woman, before Merlin steps forward and chuckles.

"Tamise," Merlin says loudly, "You know exactly who we are and why we are here. Your father invited us."

With a huff the girl pulls her hood back to reveal her face, her curly and bright hair contrasting with the surrounding area, and Elizabeth is surprised to see she looks about her own age. Delicate features frame wide, bright eyes, while pale skin stands out almost startlingly against red hair that is swept up in a messy braid on the top of her head. Her freckled cheeks are her most defining features, her skin sparkled with brown and golden specks. "I didn't expect so many of you though," she mutters, her hands going to tap against her thigh. "So many different _kinds_ too." She looks each of them over critically, her eyes lingering on Tristan a fraction of a second longer than the others, all but scowling before continuing, "Well come on, then."

She leads them up a little path, her metal pole clicking with each tap against the rocks. She grumbles as the three other men pull their hoods back, waving welcomes to them, their own bright red hair on the tops of their heads now a defining feature of the group as everyone says their greetings, and they give a small bow. A few smile politely, a contrast to their leader's annoyed scowl, but as soon as the group step off of the rocks to follow- several things happen at once.

Diane begins to grow rapidly, and she shouts in surprise for Merlin as she stretches up and up, her clothing returning to her orange suit before she trips over her own legs and falls flat on her behind. King also shouts in surprise, as Chastiefol drops out from under him and flops to the ground, the fairy landing on his feet as his legs tremble under his weight. Elizabeth looks at them in confusion as they squawk.

"Now now," Merlin giving them reassurances as she waves a hand, and Elizabeth turns to ask her a question- when suddenly a searing pain shoots through her temples. She gasps and stops, her hands going to her head, and she must pause for a moment to steady herself until the pain recedes.

Her eyes can't focus for a brief terrifying second, as everything blurs, before the world rights itself.

"What's happening?!" Diane cries, now back to her original size and hopping back and forth on her feet.

"It's just the island," Merlin says in amusement, even as a bead of sweat trickles down the side of her own face, her smile strained. "Magic cannot work here. The island has a natural canceling effect on all life forms. So the minimizing tablets just wore off, that's all."

"No magic?" King snaps, scrambling, "But- but- _how?"_ The fairy is clearly affected the most out of all of them. "Couldn't you have warned us?" He snatches up his pillow with a scowl, his face pale as he dusts off the dirt, and Lancelot giggles like a madman as he quickly ducks behind Diane.

"Must have slipped my mind." Merlin waves them on airily and they begin to walk, now feeling the chill of the air and walking slightly less confidently as they follow the Lady Tamise. She hadn't even paused during their little show, now a bit of a distance down a path that they would have been easily missed had it not been pointed out to them, and now all of them follow on foot.

As they walk, Elizabeth feels a hand on her elbow, and she turns to see Tristan looking at her in concern. "Are you alright?" he asks, his brows drawn down as his eyes dart across her face. And it's a slight relief, Elizabeth thinks, to see him talking to her again.

"Yes, of course." she says with what she hopes is a reassuring smile, her voice weaker than she wants. "I think, maybe it is the magic here. I'm fine now though." Tristan nods, his unhappy expression returning as Lancelot pops up behind him, the short guy putting his hands behind his head as Tristan leaves to hurry to catch up with Merlin. Elizabeth finds herself bringing up the rear of the party, walking with Lancelot who is whistling a soft tune.

They climb up a steep bank for several minutes, and Elizabeth is thankful that she brought sensible clothes with her instead of her court gowns. The pair of fur covered boots are great, the soft chilly crush of the ground under her feet would have been far harder to transverse without them. At the top of the cliffs, the ground becomes even, and even King seems impressed with the beauty of the island stretching before them. A field of lush green fields seem to go on and on, covered in miles of wildflowers spanning brilliant colors- before it all stretches up countless mountains that seems to travel into the sky itself. The terrain seamlessly spirals up into the clouds, the autumn sky a clear blue, reminding Elizabeth of the water around Barsil as well, and it stands out brightly against the dark cliffs on their left.

"This place is amazing," Lancelot breathes, actually whispering, and Elizabeth can only nod as she takes it all in with a deep breath.

A dirt paths winds through all of it, and it is here that the young woman leads them at a brisk pace. "Do we have very far to go?" Diane asks, in much better spirits now that she is off the ship and can walk so easily, a chipper hop to her step, and she is looking around in awe just as much as the rest of them. The woman up front does not answer, only giving her an impatient look flat look and a shrug as she continues walking, and Diane frowns. King grumbles as he hurries to keep up, unused to so much walking instead of flying as he watches his feet more often than not, and the giantess scoops him up and places him on her shoulder after he falls another time. "Do you want a ride too, Elizabeth?" she asks, grinning down at her as she holds out her hand.

"No thank you!" she calls back. "I'm rather enjoying the walk." She looks closer at Diane's face as the giant stands tall, before calling out, "Are you sure you are feeling better Lady Diane? You were quite unwell on the ship."

"Huh?" She tilts her head, before thinking hard, "I feel fine, actually. That's so strange, I feel great!" She smiles brightly, and Elizabeth can see it too; how the color is returning to her cheeks, how her eyes aren't as dark and shrunken as before, and Diane's smile broadens. "Dunno, it must be this place because I feel like I was never sick at all."

"I want a ride!" Lancelot hollers, going to jump into her hand as both women turn to him. King snaps, "Not gonna happen," and he glares down at the boy even as he pouts a bit, but King just tells him to forget it. Elizabeth looks over with a small laugh, and asks, "I've noticed you usually walk everywhere, instead of floating like Sir King. Is that something you did not inherit?"

"Uh? Oh, no." Lancelot shrugs. "I can do it, I guess, but it's hard to control so far, even harder than Arondight. I still have to practice a _ton_ more. Most of the time I land on my face." There is a snort from ahead, and Lancelot sticks his tongue out at the back of Tristan's head. "You're one to laugh. Who was it again who couldn't ride a horse until he was almost ten?"

"Shut up Lancelot," Tristan mutters, looking away, but Lancelot turns and says to Elizabeth, "Do you remember that at all? Every time he got on a horse-boom, down he went. Didn't matter if it was a normal size one, or a miniature one, or a _pony._ One time the horse got fed up with him and bit him!" Lancelot's laughter pealed across the field. "What a riot! I mean- hahaha- even _Jason_ could ride before him and-"

"I'm sure Her Majesty isn't interested in your stories Lancelot," King grumbles, even as a blush stains his cheeks as Diane brings a hand up to rub the top of his head, but Elizabeth quickly says, "Actually! Well, I- I'd like to hear whatever stories you have." She glances at Tristan nervously, unsure if she was overstepping her bounds, but his eyes remain focused straight ahead. "Maybe- maybe something will spark a memory for me?"

"Yeah! Of course," Lancelot grins, even as Merlin sighs and shakes her head in front of them, "We're always here to help!"

"I remember something," Diane says as everyone settles in for a sort of impromptu story time. "When you were pregnant with Lynette all you wanted was fruit." She twirls a ponytail in her fingers as she thinks back, 'We used to sit and watch you eat crate after crate of strawberries, grapes, pears, anything you could get your hands on. You were like.. _Magic_ how you could just always want those things and never stop."

"Really?" Elizabeth giggles, blushing slightly as she chews on her lip, trying to picture it.

"Oh I remember that!" Lancelot says. "My dad had to practically buy half of Lioness' produce."

"Don't exaggerate," King scolds.

"I don't think he is," Diane mumbles as she turns around and walks backwards, her finger on her chin as she thinks. "Captain got you whatever you wanted, of course, every time you were pregnant it was like he was possessed. He's the worst overprotective person _ever._ And when the prince was first born?" she laughs. "He was so spoiled!"

"Still is," Lancelot teases.

"Shut up." Tristan shoots him a sour look, the bland comment shooting his direction on reflex over his shoulder, and they all laugh. Even Tamise, their guide, gives a half smile.

"Well you were a bit wild when you were little," Diane says to him, and he scowls up at her. "I mean you were a real demon spawn, I think that's what Ban called you." She hums as she twirls her hair in thought, and Elizabeth almost chokes as she stumbles. "I remember the first time someone tried to bother you when you were really really little, and Meliodas acted like they were an enemy of the Kingdom." Diane keeps talking as Elizabeth stares wide eyed up at her.

 _A- a demon what?_ Elizabeth squeaks in her head as she looks at Tristan, but everyone just continues on with nonplussed.

"No I wasn't," Tristan says with a frown, but Merlin nods.

"Yup. You went through like a dozen nannies because you kept biting all of them." Diane nods as she hold up her fingers, wiggling them, "You bit out a couple chunks."

 _A demon spawn?!_ Elizabeth is still too busy squeaking and wringing her hands.

"No," says Tristan indignantly. "That was Lynette."

"No. That was you." Diane thinks for a moment. "Wait, remember when they used to find you climbing up the castle wall? I had to rescue you a couple of times when you got too high. You'd just freeze up and start bawling, like it wasn't you who just crawled all the way up there."

"Lynette again," Tristan says blandly.

"You weren't all good, Your Highness," Merlin chuckles as she interjects, "There was an occasion I remember, you ran down the dining table with a knife and stabbed your sister-"

"That wasn't me that time!" Tristan shouts as they make their way down another mountain side. "I would know! I was the one who was stabbed!"

Lancelot nearly doubles over as Tristan's ears start tinting slightly red, and the men of Tamise's group chuckle softly at his despair, into their long coat sleeves. But the giant just continues on, much to Tristan's growing horror, bringing up story after story. Elizabeth looks at Tristan in wonder, her mind whirling with each tale; as she learns he had a pair of socks he couldn't live without, how he got into a fight with a swan as a toddler and _lost,_ and then Meliodas banned fowl from the courtyard, how his first love was at five with a woman who was middle-aged and sold bread down the road…

Tristan's head is all but glowing red.

"Oh, there was that time with the Dwarfs," It's King this time who brings up a story, but Tristan can't take it anymore, snapping out a quick, "No more stories!" with a screech so filled with mortified anger that even Diane hides a smile in her hands. And he's glaring daggers at Lancelot now as he giggles like a little boy, his entire face flushed.

There is a loud cough as the leader of their group clears her throat loudly. "If you're all finished." she says dryly, "we're nearly there."

The memories and jokes are pushed aside as Elizabeth gaps, another spectacle springing up around a slope of a mountain. They start down the other side of the rise, and the trek might have been slow but as the ground levels again, more wildflowers appear. Elizabeth admires them with a high sound in her throat as they crunch under her boots, dozens of different reds and blues blossoming in short grass, but they end abruptly as the flat lands cut off in a sharp change.

They reach the most astonishing forest she had ever laid eyes on, again the island leaving her speechless. The short trees are extremely flush with life, stranger than anything in Britannia; some of them, she thinks, must have more than ten different types of fruits being born from the same plant. There were nuts, vegetables, fruits, flowers, and other things _she couldn't even figure out._ Some of them look familiar, similar to something she could compare it too; while others left her with more questions than answers. There were large seeded vines or hung purple spiked plants, others rising from the ground and sprouting out of the bushes in ridiculous splendor. Each one is a unique color, each has a unique texture and smell and size and vibrance, even the bark of the stems shimmer in silver, gold, lavender, even orange. _Everything_ had color, and it was a mystery how any of these luscious plants could grow in such a chilly climate.

"These are the legendary plants of Barsil," Merlin says, eyeing them all like she wanted to take a few back to her lair and experiment. "Each one has its own magical properties, and they are used to make the spell beads. The actual process of making them is quite a mystery. Their flowers, leaves, fruit, even the bark can-"

"Would you _please_ not give _all_ of our secrets away?" the girl interrupts, thwacking her staff down.

"It's not like we're here to steal them," King says with a yawn, glancing over at a large body size tulip-like flower, that was swaying back and forth to its own rhythm.

"Just don't touch anything," she snaps back, her bright red hair frizzing up, and Elizabeth is quick to nod as her bright eyes focuses on their group. "You'll disturb the balance of magic."

Elizabeth clasps her hands tightly in front of her to avoid the temptation- the garden truly amazing as they approach another inner line of vegetation- when there is a loud bang behind her, causing her to give a little scream as they all jump. She whirls around to see Lancelot on the ground, smoke coming from his right arm, and he winces, choking out a gruff, _"Ow."_

Elizabeth hurries over, carefully helping him to sit up, as the others turn back and come over in concern. All except Tamise, who has an incredibly furious look on her face. "I just told you not to touch anything!" she exclaims shrilly.

"Hey, relax," Tristan says, kneeling to help Elizabeth keep him up. His arm looks more singed than burned, and Tristan hisses quietly, "What did you do?"

Lancelot smiles sheepishly. "I just wanted to touch one. After she said we couldn't, I just-"

"Yeah yeah, I get it," Tristan bites out angrily, shaking his head. "Was it the gold one?" Elizabeth places a hand on his arm as he mumbles a yes, closing her eyes, and wills him to be healed. But to her confusion, nothing happens; no familiar tingle in her hands, no heat that spreads outwards. She opens her eyes and looks at Lancelot, and sure enough, his arm looks exactly the same.

"Magic doesn't work here, Your Grace, remember?" Merlin says kindly from above, and Elizabeth looks up at her and nods. "I-I'm sorry-I must have forgotten."

Merlin nods as Tristan helps him up, Lancelot wincing as he is not very gentle. "Let's go," Tamise mutters, leading them once again.

A hush falls over the group as they walk through the vibrant garden, but when she steps between the first larger bushes, Elizabeth feels the blinding headache again.

Gasping, she pulls up short and grips the back of her neck, clawing the skin underneath her collar as white searing hot _pain_ flares, originating just below her hairline.

"Aunty?" Lancelot says, pulling up short, but she cannot focus on him, cannot focus on _anything_ except the searing heat that leaves her blind and trembling.

There is a loud grumbling around her before worried hush tones fills her ears, and hands hold her steady even as she can't make out who is who as they talk, and she whimpers as the pain is now partnered with a throb that echoes in her temples. "Pull her in!" she hears someone shout, and then she feels herself being half-dragged, half-carried, her feet stumbling as she tries to keep herself upright.

Then, suddenly, it is gone. Elizabeth blinks her eyes open, wincing, her mouth open as she pants in relief. She finds herself sitting on the ground, somewhat off the garden path, being held up on either side by the two boys and Diane peering down at her with deep concern, and her clothes feel almost soaked through with sweat suddenly. Merlin is crouched in front of her with a finger on the top of her head, between her brows, as she takes in deep breaths. "Welcome back," Merlin says guardedly, her professional sly smile gracing her lips again as her eyes dart around Elizabeth's face.

"What happened?" she whispers, her throat tight, and she is amazed that she can breathe again, even think again as Tristan shifts his hold, helping her to lean up more.

"Just a bit of a shock to your system is all," Merlin says gently. "A bit too much magic overwhelmed you."

"That was more than a shock," Tristan says through gritted teeth, Lancelot patting the top of her head even as Merlin watches the two boys with a rather fond look, and he helps Elizabeth to stand. "Is this place more dangerous than you told us?" her son starts again, looking at a nearby plant with distaste.

"It's only dangerous to some people," Tamise says with a huff, and then points straight at the queen. "It's not our fault that _she_ is so-"

"Perhaps we should hurry along," Merlin says loudly, waving back the direction they were going. "Elizabeth, can you walk?"

Elizabeth nods, and is secretly grateful when Tristan does not remove his hand from her arm. It would be embarrassing to topple over again in front of everyone.

"Are you _sure_ you don't want me to carry her?" Diane grumbles, and now they walk quickly through the maze-like garden, determined to get to the Great Leader as quickly as possible, The talking and laughing are gone as they make their way closer to a village lining the mountain side in the distance. It only takes them a few minutes to reach a clearing, passing the village outposts and other groups of natives returning from their work, and in the middle of the surprisingly large settlement, is a great tent.

It towers over the rest, the pointed peak covered in different rugs and furs, and there are paintings of symbols Elizabeth could not make out, creating colorful messages in paints and assorted metal pieces.

"Wait here," Tamise says abruptly, hurrying inside the tent, nodding to the two guards standing outside the opening, and Tristan leads Elizabeth over to a log that is laying on the ground, urging her to sit. They wait several minutes, and when nothing happens, Diane makes herself a spot to sit on the ground, King leaning up against her as he hugs his pillow close. Lancelot flops himself down on the ground, propping up against the log Elizabeth is perched upon and plucking at the wildflowers under them, but it doesn't take another twenty minutes until Tristan walks away, his arms folded as he stares at the ground.

"What are we waiting for, Merlin?" King says. The mage simply stands with one arm folded, the other tapping thoughtfully on her chin. "We're waiting for the Great Leader to see us, I presume," she answers.

"How long will that take?" he asks.

Merlin turns and gives him a shrug. "As long as it needs to, I suppose."

Lancelot heaves a heavy sigh. The minutes slip by into an hour, and then two, and Elizabeth starts to get anxious as they wait. More and more villagers pass where they are sitting, men woman and even children glancing curiously at them from a distance, and Tristan unpacks a late lunch for them all. As they eat, King begins to question Merlin again, who has not moved from her spot watching the tent. "What could they be doing? Should we just go in there?"

"I wouldn't recommend that," Merlin says blandly, "When the Great Leader is ready, we'll know."

"The only thing 'great' about this Great Leader is that he's great about making us wait," Lancelot mumbles as he shoves a sandwich into his mouth, looking over at a little group of kids peering at them from behind a large wheelbarrow, large fur coats swallowing each of them up, and he waves.

Another hour goes by, then another, and twilight is just beginning to approach when Tamise finally emerges from the tent. Which is good news, because the angry tick on the side of King's head is fairly noticeable now. They all stand as the girl steps out and looks around, hands on her hips. "Well, come on then," she says impatiently, holding open the flap of the tent as the guards bow deeply, the large colorful hats on their heads dipping with them.

Elizabeth looks at Merlin, who inclines her head slightly with a smile, and she takes a deep breath before walking forward. Tristan steps over with long strides in order to accompany her, but Tamise holds up a hand to stop him. "Just her," she says curtly.

"The queen is not going in there alone," he says coldly, giving her the same guarded glare, and the two square off for a moment, staring at each other, and then Tamise shrugs. "Fine, it doesn't matter." Elizabeth looks over her shoulder, and Merlin is just shaking her head, still smiling, and they both follow her inside.

The first thing Elizabeth notices is the smell. The almost overwhelming aroma of herbs and plants she would guess she'd also never seen permeates the air, and it leaves her nose twitching as she looks down at an assortment of rugs underneath her feet.

She nervously walks closer, towards a terribly old man who sits in the center of the tent as Tristan hangs back a bit, and he is sitting on a _giant_ pillow. His skin is peppered with liver spots, his face and hands wrinkled and the rest of him frail and sagging. He seems so old, as if he is the oldest man she's ever met. His legs are folded under him and his hair white and long, his beard even whiter and longer and braided into different locks with an assortment of magic beads on the end. He wears a brightly colored sweater, all patched together, with pants made of thick pelts covering his legs and fur boots. On the top of his head is a headpiece of black feathers and metals, larger than his head itself, and his chin is bowed, touching his chest, making it seem like he is asleep. To the side, sitting confidently on their own smaller pillows sit two men, similarly dressed, neither of whom look up or speak.

Elizabeth hesitates, unsure of what to do as she finally reaches the center of the room where the Great Leader sits. Then she jumps as the two men each bang on a drum four times. The sounds dissipates, even as a fire crackles in the corner, and they stare at the Great Leader, waiting for him to speak. After a long moment, Tamise steps around and hisses, "Father! Your guests are here!"

His head jerks a bit, "Hm?" he says in a low tone. He looks up slowly, and Elizabeth sees that his eyes are white with blindness.

"Great Leader," Merlin says pleasantly. "Thank you so much for welcoming us."

"Merlin!" he exclaims very, very loudly, shocking Elizabeth at how such a small man could shout that loud, before he scowls and runs a hand across his beard. "I can not believe that you are here. Didn't I tell you never to come back?"

"I don't believe so," she answers smoothly as he squints at her direction, before giving a loud reply of, "Bah. If you say so!" and Merlin steps forward to sweeps a hand towards her, saying, "May I present the queen of Lioness, Queen Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth?" he says, his mouth twisting a bit as he slowly nods. And he glances down at her feet, before his milky eyes travel up to stare directly into her eyes, "No, this isn't the queen. What is her name again?"

Merlin gives Elizabeth a bit of a push to step forward, a reassuring hand on her back. "I assure you, this is the queen. She is King Baltra's youngest daughter."

"His daughter, is she?" At this, the Great Leader laughs. "Elizabeth's not really his daughter. She's only _adopted."_ Elizabeth blushes furiously and he hurriedly waves her forward. "Well, come on, step up here and let me see you."

Timidly Elizabeth steps up, kneeling down in front of him. He leans forward on his pillow until his face is but inches away, and his hand comes out and swipes over her head, not truly touching her. He mumbles under his breath, and there are several minutes of silence as his hand moves back and forth until finally he says, "You know," he raises a brow, "I'm only doing this because your father was such a good man."

Elizabeth swallows. "He was wonderful," she says sadly.

The Great Leader huffs. "Baltra was the greatest king Liones had ever seen." He grunts again, reaching to the side to pull out a small bag and reaches inside, pulling out what looks like a discarded jagged piece of bronze. "Who is king now?"

"My-my husband, Meliodas," she answers quietly.

His hand stills for a moment.

"I never heard of such a thing, the _third_ princess becoming queen. Someone not of blood." He tilts his face towards Merlin. "And an Apostle of the Goddesses too? At the least. How did such a thing happen?"

"Margaret, the oldest, gave up her claim in order to marry the Great Holy Knight," Merlin answers smoothly, talking as the Great Leader stays close to Elizabeth, and Tristan keeps his arms folding in the corner. "And Veronica wanted to become a Holy Knight herself, so she gave up her place on the throne."

"Hmm," he says, sitting back. Elizabeth can feel her heart pounding, trembling a bit as she waits for him to speak again. She had had no idea that her sisters had left the throne to her. And- and it is very obvious he does not particularly find her worthy of her place, as a person.

"I don't approve of the goddesses, you know," the Great Leader says brusquely, and Elizabeth can feel her cheeks flush, as if she is responsible for his dislike. "I'm not a fan of the demons, either. I would rather _not_ help you. To call it personal would be a lie, however Merlin did ask me, and I can clearly see the traces of Baltra's love for you still there." He squints dramatically, peering over her head, "So I'll do it, but just this once."

Elizabeth nods, glancing back over her shoulder. Merlin is watching with curiosity, but Tristan is frowning deeply, his expression almost angry-

"Wait!" the Great Leader shouts, making them all jump. "What is _that?"_ He reaches forward and grabs her by the back of the head, and she yelps as he yanks her forward, pulling her hair to the side and turning her head to a strange angle. It doesn't hurt, not exactly, but his hands are rough as they move over her scalp. "I know I saw it!"

"Take your hands off the queen!" Tristan demands as he takes a step forward, but Merlin shushes him just as Elizabeth also whispers, "It's fine, Tristan, really-" She starts to try to reassure them, only to yelp when he lifts her chin.

"There!" the Great Leader shouts, and he presses the tip of his finger into the back of her neck.

Elizabeth cries out, a jolt of electricity shooting through her head and down her back, until coursing waves of pain start. Her eyesight goes bright from the pain, the room spinning as she reaches up to grab the Great Leader's arm on reflex, her body jerking from the pain as she shouts out again.

"Let her go!" Tristan's voice is now angrier, insistent as he tries to move forward, and Elizabeth tries to breathe through the stabbing pain that shoots up the back of her head. _"Please, Tristan, just- just-"_

"Look," the Great Leader growls, and she hears her son gasp, making out what looks like Merlin stepping closer as she whimpers, her hands curling around the elderly man's arms, which have a deceptively powerful hold on her.

"What _is_ that?" Tristan whispers in horror, as the Great Leader lets go of her head. Elizabeth gasps, flopping over to rest her weight on her hands, and then she is looking up at them fearfully, a hand reaching for her throat as the throbbing starts again with a vengeance, the eerily familiar pain prickling at one point. _"What?"_ she croaks, her fingers going to the back of her neck to scratch there, but the Great Leader's hand shoots out, grabbing her wrist to stop her.

She turns and looks at him, and he gazes back, looking almost sad. "I'm afraid you are caught up in quite a bit of magic," he says solemnly. "How did you get so tangled up in so many spells?"

 _"I-I don't-"_ The Great Leader moves his finger back to her neck as she stammers, making an intricate design against the skin under the nape of her hair. Instantly the shooting pain stops, and she can breathe easier as he leans away. _"I- I don't know what happened to me,"_ she tries again, but he shakes his head.

"No wonder I didn't recognize you," he accuses blandly, his voice at a normal level for once. "You're not the queen. You're Baltra's daughter, but you're not Queen Elizabeth at all, are you?"

"I-I am-" Elizabeth stammers hopelessly, her eyes wide but it is Merlin who is angry this time. "What are you talking about? This is Queen Elizabeth. I did not bring an _imposter."_ Merlin sounds personally offended. "She's lost her memories. I think someone stole them away."

At this the Great Leader laughs. "You can't steal what isn't there. This isn't the queen. This is the princess."

Elizabeth's breath sticks in her throat. For a long moment she stares at him, trembling. Has she snapped?- perhaps she has- she heard him wrong while in the throes of pain. She remembers her conversation with Gowther, she remembers her confusion and her fear and her _adamant belief that she wasn't supposed to be here._

"I don't understand," Merlin says, her voice trembling slightly with emotion, and that scares Elizabeth more than anything else that has happened.

"Do you see this on her neck?" he says, exasperated, pushing her head to tilt down again, and Elizabeth does not resist as her skin pales, her entire form shaking. "What does it look like to you?"

There is a moment of silence before Tristan says, "It... looks like a rope."

"What?" Elizabeth cries out, jerking back and away from the peering gazes.

"There is a marking on your neck, Elizabeth," Merlin says seriously, still leaning over her. "A mark that looks like a rope."

Elizabeth's eyes go wide, as she remembers all the times her throat ached. She thinks back to when this entire thing began, when she held Meliodas' lifeless body, and there was a great pulling before a sharp pain in her neck, as if something was pulling her one way as she fell another-

She brings her fingers up to touch her skin, and yanks it back with a horrifying cry as she finally _feels_ what has always been there.

"It's a noose," the Great Leader says. "Are you both blind? This noose is keeping her here, where she doesn't belong."

"What do you mean, she doesn't belong?" Tristan says, now sounding furious as he finally can not stand it, taking the last step to grab his mother, taking her by the shoulders and leaning her against his legs from her spot on the floor.

"Belong in time," Merlin answers slowly. "Isn't that what you mean? She isn't from this time."

Elizabeth sits back and whips her head around to look at the Great Leader, her jaw trembling too greatly for her to speak, as she watches him nods slowly. "She's in the wrong time. She was brought here from the past, forcefully yanked by that rope and pulled tight. This is an _extremely_ powerful curse. Her memories are not gone; they were never made in the first place."

"There are others," Merlin says quickly, "others just like her-"

"Look for the mark," he advises, his hand back in his hair. "I'm sure you'll find they have it too."

Elizabeth's hand goes to her mouth, covering her trembling lips, and she is unable to keep up with the rapid exchange of questions and answers as her eyes beginning to fill with tears. She had been right, _all along._ She _knew._ Somehow, she knew that her memories had not been taken away. She had been so confident she knew she was the Princess, but… but..

But she had started to believe, started to want to believe that it was a simple fix; that she belonged here, with Meliodas and Tristan and her children and family and title. That all they had to do was find the person that did this, and the nightmare from Vaizel would be nothing more than another memory. She begins to shake as the weight of this knowledge presses inward, but the others take no notice as they continue to argue.

Because that would mean Meliodas truly was dead, and that was where she belongs.

She gags.

"This isn't possible," Tristan says, squeezing her shoulders tight as his eyes stayed transfixed on the rope burn around her throat. "This is the queen- this is my _mother._ I would _know_ if she isn't the right person. If she really wasn't my-"

"I didn't say she's not the right _person,"_ the Great Leader snaps. "Listen to what I say, or don't listen at all! She _is_ Elizabeth Lioness. She's just… another version. A younger version."

"What do we do?" Merlin asks. "This, I do not know anything concerning controlling time."

"If you want to undo the spells and the curse, you must find a way to cut that rope. Now you know what direction to turn, at the least." he says. "But I'm warning you, I don't know what will happen if you do. She's hanging from the gallows, and it might be best to just leave it alone."

"We can't leave it alone," Merlin says pointedly. "The other cases like this-their memories turn against their minds, and they eventually lose everything."

"Curses usually end badly, I'm not surprised," says the Great Leader blandly, squinting at the Elizabeth. "She has a bit more time. Her powers are mending the little breaks as they happen. And there is something else too; some other spell or something that is covering her, one that is _helping,_ but it's hard to make out when she's so wrapped up in all this magic." He tilts his head back down towards Elizabeth, running his hand through his beard as he hums in thought. "You really ought to be more careful. It's dangerous to have so much power covering you like this," he scolds.

"But what do we _do?"_ Tristan insists. "She didn't do it on purpose! Someone did this to her!"

"Go find them then," The Great Leader sits back and folds his arms. "You can't expect me to know everything. I'm very busy, and you've taken up enough of my time. Now get out."


	16. Before Time Slips Away

A/N: If I could divert your attention to the rating of this story for just a moment. Please swivel your eyes to the letter that is now there my lovelies, as you can see it is now a giant M. Yes, my dears, M. The day has come where Lickitysplit could not stop me- for I am like a shark swirling in the chaotic fiery tornado. This story is now under the mature category for actual, foreseeable events, so please become aware and read accordingly. Look at me, sounding all mature.

peacerockgirl123: You're welcome love. The story will end, that is true, and maybe _just maybe_ it will have an ending that will not rip your heart out and stomp on it before stealing your wallet. One can only hope.

BettyBest2: Gowther is usually right, that's true, and he's pretty on the ball. He most certainly would not be surprised to know he knew it all along. Tristan is adorable. I love making him suffer in these ways. This poor guy, I'm starting to think we're being a little too hard on him. Nah. The rest will slowly be revealed, of course, as we have so many mysteries to keep track of my love, that my entire wall is covered in sticky notes and different color threads connecting them all. There is also a picture of Beyoncé in there for some reason too- I'm still trying to figure that part out.

hiyomi: We are trying to make our developments interesting, so when you find our hopefully interesting developments interesting We celebrate. thank you love. Now _that_ is a mystery.

whitangel: Awesome! We are too!

Vhosek: We are so excited that you are excited. All of this hard work and not eating and not sleeping and barely seeing the outside world beyond our keyboards was worth it.

Kamira: That's alright love, we are just happy that you reviewed! I see you are a Lancelot fan, have you put on your Lancelot T- shirt yet? Because I think Tristan is winning at the moment. Awww, thank you love we love that you love it.

MariananBuBuLuBu: You were expecting this, but hopefully you still found it shocking. We love it that you love it my love.

Cerulean Grace. You were our 100th review, and we toasted to you. Yay! And yes, we were very responsible with our drinks, we swear! We are happy you like our suspenseful mysteries, as well as the fur lined boots Elizabeth was wearing, hahaha. And _Future Elizabeth?_ Now _that_ is a thought.

sassykitten1701: Damn it, we hope so too. Damn it there will be!

CaptainTwiggy0918: That it does. The way you describe it is so very interesting, we were nodding our heads alongside you. Make sure to wash that shirt once in awhile at least, my dear friend.

Chapter 16: Before Time Slips Away

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It had been too late for them to return to the ship, so Tamise very reluctantly and with a great deal of complaining arranges for tents and beds and food for them to estay the night. Elizabeth remains drawn and silent through dinner, barely eating, and Tristan spies her reaching up to touch the back of her neck occasionally. The rope burn fades with time, the swelling and harsh skin disappearing like it wasn't even there, giving the curse a eerie and deceptive feeling of wellbeing. King and Diane had pressed for answers as they had emerged, the giant leaning to cup a shaking Elizabeth in her hands; however the queen had only fallen into a bout of weeping, with wretched sobs that had left him feeling raw and exposed, and not knowing what to do simply watched Lancelot give her the hugs he wish he could.

But he had simply shook his head and allowed Merlin to explain what they had learned as his Mother curled herself around Lancelot.

The queen- _The princess?_ This was all very confusing- but she very understandably gone to bed early, and everyone else had followed suit; and now Tristan sits and stares at the dying fire in front of his tent, alone with his heavy mood. His hands are out, resting on his knees as his shoulders feel heavy with the weight of _everything._ The Great Leader is supposed to know what to do, is supposed to have the answers. That's why they even _came_ here. That's why _he_ had come.

When the request had come from his mother, it was clearly her trying to help again when _he didn't want it,_ and he decided to just ignore it. That is, until Merlin visited him in his room, leaning against an open door with her head tilted to the side. "You know," she had trailed off with her sly smile, "the Great Leader has answers to a great many questions. I'm sure if there is anything _you_ are wondering about, he could answer it for you."

He had stared at her as she left, before looking over at his sword that was flung to side of his room, untouched from the day prior. Of course, there was something that had been on his mind, weighing on him since they had returned to Vaizel, and Merlin knew just where to push to get something. And here he is now, sitting in front of this fire on this strange island, and suddenly he is determined to ask his question.

He stands, walking briskly towards the Great Leader's tent, making sure to be quiet and not disturb the others or the native people who are asleep around him.

"What are you doing?" Lancelot hisses as he jumps out from seemingly nowhere, causing the prince to jump a mile. "Don't do that," Tristan growls back, his hair sticking up at odd angles.

"Are ya going in there?" whispers Lancelot, following him as Tristan walks faster. "Can I come? I didn't get to see last time." He wiggles his eyebrows. "Maybe that Tamise is in there too. She's pretty sweet to look at, don't ya think? Do ya think she likes me? I've always liked redheads."

"Get out of my way," Tristan says, terribly annoyed, and sweeps open the tent's flap, Lancelot squeezing in after him. He sweeps his eyes around the space, but it is empty. Strange, Tristan does not remember seeing the Great Leader ever leave.

"What are you doing?" another voice says, and now both boys jump at the sound. Tamise steps out from the shadows, swiping a finger to set the torches around the tent ablaze, and Lancelot whistles in appreciation at the easy display of magic which, Tristan had thought, was impossible here. With the light, he can see that the room truly is empty.

"Hey, Tamise," Lancelot says, his voice lowered an octave and his smile a bit cocky, and the girl gives them both a strange look.

"I'm looking for the Great Leader," Tristan huffs in frustration, standing tall as she walks forward. "I just- I needed to ask him something."

"He's not here," Tamise answers.

"Yeah, I can see that," Tristan mumbles back. His shoulders sag, knowing that he has missed his chance.

The girl frowns, looking him over before blandly asking, "What did you want to know?"

He looks up at her as she crosses her arms, leaning on one leg more than the other, "Something happened a few days ago. I-" He looks over her face, hesitating as he glances at each of her gray eyes, "I kind of… lost control of my power." Lancelot is suddenly jumping in, much to Tristan's exasperation. "Oh yeah! You should have seen it! He had these black marks, and they like covered up his whole arm. Probably from his dad's side of the family, but then he almost took out these guys, but it exploded instead." He makes a motion with his hand, even doing sound effects as Tristan squeezes his eyes shut before shaking his head.

"My father used his _Full Counter_ to stop my _Strike_ ability. It should have hit me with twice the force, and it didn't. And he shouldn't have been able to get hit with any magic, but he had a cut on his shoulder. That's never happened before."

Her brows are pulled together tightly as she looks deep into his eyes. Tristan stares back for a moment, uncomfortable, until she says, "Let me see your sword."

Tristan swallows, thinking back to his gear still thrown into the very back of his closet. "I didn't bring one."

Exasperated, she huffs and stomps to a chest, throwing it open and pulling out a long blade. "Here, this will do." She unsheathes it before handing it to him with a slight toss. "Now show me _Strike."_

Tristan nods and holds out his arm. His power pulses under his skin, and he flicks his wrist barely to the side. A quick flash of white, searing power shoots from the sharp end of the blade, and across the room, a vase shatters.

"So you don't have to aim to hit your target," Tamise observes, her face still the same. "You just have to know where you want it to hit."

Tristan nods. "He can hit anything!" Lancelot adds.

"Really now," the woman starts to laugh. "Well, isn't it obvious then? Your power and your father's are opposites. You can hit anything with magic, and he can block anything with magic. Pure opposites. They cancel each other out. That's why there was an explosion and why just a tiny bit broke through."

"So what are you saying?" Tristan asks. "We can't use our powers against each other? Powers, they don't work naturally like that."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, I suppose, if you want to keep it simple." Placing her hands on her hips, she taps her fingers rhythmically against her sides, "When you attack an opponent, part of the strategy is assessing the power level, because of course someone with a greater level will have a more powerful attack. But you also need to consider the element the attack is using. Fire is effective against wind, for instance, but not ice. Don't they teach you anything anymore?"

Tristan clenches his jaw and bites out, "Yes, of _course_ we know that. But I never heard of two powers _cancelling_ each other out."

"We're on an island that does it _naturally_." Her mouth twists, her glare leveling out as she just stares at him. Like he's an idiot. "I don't think you appreciate how unusual your situation is. There is a demon and an apostle- A goddess? Whatever your mother is- ruling Lioness. Ruling a kingdom in peace and all the other races are _talking_ to each other and _mingling_ and getting _along."_ The girl shakes her head. "You think that happens a lot? The races can mix, certainly, but two beings like _that?_ Like you and _him,"_ she nods her head towards Lancelot, who beams at her attention, "The power they each possess? It can't get more opposite than that." Tamise points at him. "You, your blood, is the result. You are the opposite, because they are opposite. When an unmoving object is struck with an unstoppable force- _events_ happen."

"So if Tristan's the opposite of Uncle, who is the queen's?" Lancelot speaks up, walking over to pick up a large piece of the shattered vase, tossing it back and forth into the air.

The girl shrugs. "I don't know. Are there any others like you around?"

The boys exchange a look. "I have a sister and a brother," Tristan answers slowly, looking down at the blade in his hand.

Nodding, she says, "So who has the opposite power of your mother? What's she do?"

"My mother doesn't have the power of a Holy Knight," he says. "She's a healer."

"So's Jason," Lancelot interjects.

"Yes, but that's the same, not different," Tristan replies.

"Possibly he does it in another way?" Tamise laughs, bringing a finger up to trace over her lower lip, and Tristan spots Lancelot getting a bit of a dreamy look next to him. "Well, maybe they're not done having kids then." Lancelot makes a disgusted noise, and the girl laughs again.

Tristan is only partially satisfied as he leaves, Lancelot following right behind as usual, even as he waves a dramatic goodbye to Tamise, who doesn't even glance back. He heads straight for their own tent, thier fire in front burned down to embers now, and he doesn't answer as Lancelot chatters on about the Great Leader and the trees and the plants and whether or not Tamise was flirting with him. "She really was, don't ya think? I mean, she looked straight at me when she talked about having kids."

Tristan has to find the will _deep_ inside of himself to not roll his eyes, keeping in the biting comment that _Lancelot looked around eight or nine years old, the idiot,_ to himself as Lancelot stands with his hands on his hips, glaring at him as he flings his shoulder bag to the side. But Tristan still does not speak as he removes all but his underclothes and pulls back the sheet, slipping under the thick blankets. "Are you still giving me the silent treatment?" Lancelot finally asks in exasperation, but gets no answer. Instead, Tristan covers himself and turns over so that his back is facing out. He knows it's not fair to his friend, but the prince's frustrations are sure to lead to another argument, so he feels it's best to just leave it all alone.

The fear that his mother would not get better, that it really is something that will kill her, is a thought that he had not allowed himself to entertain until now.

Tristan lays curled on his bed, feeling exhausted, but his eyes stay open and his mind is much too busy to turn off, recycling between the look on his mother's face when the Great Leader explained her fate, the bruised rope burn around her throat, and the look on his father's, telling him he had broken his trust.

And then, after a few moments, he realizes he must have fallen asleep, because suddenly it's very, very dark and Tristan is groggily looking up at the ceiling of the tent. Then he jolts, feeling something large move on the bed. His eyes fly open and he sits up quickly, now fully awake, and his senses immediately span out and focus on the figure sitting next to him. He can just make out Tamise's face as his eyes adjust.

She holds a finger to her lips and tilts her head towards where Lancelot's is sleeping, and Tristan's eyes flick over. Tamise leans closer, moving one hand along his chest, and it suddenly dawns on him why she is here. It's a split second decision for him to make, but he nods and slides up the bed as Tamise climbs over him, depositing herself into his lap.

He feels her hands cup both sides of his jaw. Then her mouth is on his, her lips rubbing back and forth with a firm gentleness, and he can feel her smiling against him in the darkness. Tristan starts in surprise, pulling back at how much passion she uses as she kisses him. After all, their interactions had been strained at best; but her kisses are insistent, and as she leans forward to press her body against his, her arms go around his neck. The past week had been nothing but one confusing, horrible event after another, from returning home and finding his mother sick, to nearly getting killed in Vaizel, and then his humiliation in front of everyone, but he finds that all that is now gone, quickly replaced by the very beautiful woman squirming in his lap.

The kiss continues silently, and Tristan wraps his arms around her waist, running his hands up her back and curling in the ends of her hair. Her breath is hot against his lips, and he gives a small grunt as her tongue slips in his mouth and slowly licks. Tristan is surprised again when her arms leave his neck, and she pulls back from his mouth to unhook her cloak, tossing it to the side. She is left in just a thin dress, and she pushes the straps down her shoulders to leave her chest bare.

Excitement flashes up his spine as he grips her by the waist and turns them over so that now he is on top. He presses her into the bed and Tamise runs her fingers in his silver hair. Tristan kisses her firmly and his hands move roughly to cup her small breasts. She bites at him, pulling his bottom lip, before pressing her hands on his shoulders and roughly spinning them back around, locking her legs with his so he can neither pull away from her searing kiss or move from under her.

She kisses him hard until his mind glazes over and his skin tingles, his palms roaming over her body. Then her hands start to move, sliding down his chest to scratch her nails over his clothes, and he settles his grip on her hips as her tongue grows hot and aggressive. They somehow stay quiet, Tristan mindful to keep his sounds to himself, but before he can slide his hands down to rest against her rear, she's grabbing the blanket that was bunched up at his feet and throwing it over their heads.

And that's when he feels her hands move _lower._

His eyes snap open as his head jerks back into his pillow, and he tries to say something on reflex. But the red headed beauty is smirking down at him, already sliding further down into the darkness of the blanket, her finger again up to her lips as she gives him a _look._ And Tristan's eyes snap over at the still sleeping form of Lancelot, before looking down at the top of her head, feeling nimble hands pulling at the fabric covering his body.

And he _gulps_ as she slides his pants down _just_ enough on his hips, his fingers digging into the mattress, and he feels the tell tale puffs of air against his hip bone, warming his skin as she moves lower and lower, and _lower,_ the blanket moving above him.

 _Oh... holy shit._ Tristan holds back a moan and slightly thrusts his hips forward as she palms him over the fabric, stroking boldly as he squeezes his eyes shut, his body quickly responding to her firm touch.

"I've never been with a demon before," she whispers, her lips and breath tickling his stomach.

Tristan freezes.

 _What am I doing?_ he thinks. Why the hell is he in bed with this woman in the middle of the night, when he knows Lancelot was interested in her- with him sleeping right there?! He has been an _awful friend_ and _brother_ for the past few days, and now it was like he was digging an even deeper hole. Not to mention the fact that they are here for his _mother,_ to get her well or to stop the enchantment or curse or whatever it is they must do to get her back to the way she was… and the one that is supposed to help them is the father of the person who is now sliding an open mouth kiss down his navel.

He puts his hands under the blankets to grab hold of her shoulders, before she can do anything else, and he feels her more than sees her huff in annoyance and look up.

"What?" she says mockingly. "I've always wondered what it would be like with a demon." He feels her hands move again, pulling the fabric completely down his hips now; and he can't stop the small gasp that passes through his clenched teeth, as she _wraps a confident hand around him._ Then she's moving down again, her breath very very- Tristan's eyes almost roll upwards- _very close_ , but then she says, "At least your kind looks like normal men down here."

Her patronizing tone snaps him out of the moment, and then he's pulling the blanket to the side, quickly scrambling up the bed. Tristan pushes her off of him as he races to yank back up his pants. "No, oh, no no no," he mutters, and Tamise leans up on her elbows. "What's wrong?" she says impatiently. He yanks the blankets to the side to look down at her in the darkness.

"I can't- this-" Tristan stutters and climbs backwards until his back is pressed to the wall as the girl sits up, angrily pulling her dress back up. "Sorry- I just- this isn't-" he tries to scramble for a reason as he hisses through the dark, but instead he can only think about what she just said, his utter humiliation from the past two days culminating into this final, mortifying moment.

"Ugh," she scoffs, scooping up the cloak and getting out of his bed, stomping out of the tent so fast the flap whirls behind her.

There is a long moment of silence, and then suddenly Tristan hears Lancelot start to laugh. It starts small, a little giggle at first, but then he rolls onto his side to look over at him, and the laughter gets so hard he shakes. Tristan looks at him with his mouth hanging open, until Lancelot finally hiccups, "That was real slick, Prince Perfect," and then they are both laughing, as he realizes Lancelot is laughing _with_ him over this absurd moment, until they are all but crying. Every time they think they are done, one will start again, or Lancelot will mutter, "Demon dick," and then they are thrown into another round of maddening laughter. This goes on and on, both gasping, faces bright red and doubled over holding their stomachs.

Until a blood-curdling scream echoes through the camp.

Instantly they are both moving, not even stopping to put on boots or clothes, and Tristan dashes towards his mother's tent. Lancelot is not far behind as he reaches the flap covering the doorway and bursts inside just as the others are starting to rouse. "Mother?" he calls, his voice catching in his throat.

In the dim light from the lantern hanging inside the tent, Tristan can see her tossing around in the bed, kicking and twisting and clawing, and then his fears are realized as she lets out another chilling scream.

He is at her side a moment later, pulling her up by the arms and giving her a little shake. "Mom! Wake up!" he says with a strangled cry, and to his horror, she turns and looks at him with wide open eyes. But they are too glazed, too wide and _too horrified._ "Please!" she screams at him. "You must teleport Meliodas here to us, now!"

He hadn't been expecting that demand, jerking back a bit. "W- what-?" he can only watch as Lancelot goes for her legs, trying to help hold her down to keep her safe, and Tristan tries to keep calm as she struggles in his hold. She twists and turns and truly fights him, and he doesn't know how much strength he can use without harming her. But her eyes are wild and Tristan's stomach drops as he imagines the nightmare she must be seeing. _"NO!"_ she wails, screaming as her head drops back. "Stop this madness! No more! _Please, please Glifrost!"_

"What's wrong with her?" Lancelot cries out in fear, trying to sit on her thrashing legs as Tristan gently lays the sobbing queen back down, her hands clawing at the mattress and her arms and her clothing, and he pulls back the blankets to protect her. "I don't know," he answers harshly before Elizabeth lets go another ear-piercing wail.

"Elizabeth?" Merlin runs inside the tent, King right behind, and she hurries around the bed, her hand immediately going to the top of her head. "Tristan? Lancelot? What are you doing here? What has happened?"

Elizabeth moans, her wild eyes turning away from the sound, her hands gripping Tristan's arms tightly as he tries to rub her shoulders. "I don't know," he whispers. "We heard her screaming, and when I got here she was like this."

 _"Noooo,"_ she wails loudly, again her struggles growing intense. "Meliodas, please!" Merlin's lips press together as she slides her hand and covers Elizabeth's sweat slicked forehead. "She's trapped in a dream," the mage says tightly. "She's not asleep or awake. She's hallucinating."

"She looks like…" King trails off as she thrashes again with another loud moan, and he listens for a moment to what she is crying out. Elizabeth's eyes stare straight ahead, unfocused and unmoving, tears pouring down her face, before she starts twisting again and moaning loudly. "It sounds like… This is like when we watched Meliodas die."

"What are you _talking_ about?" Tristan growls up at him, but then his eyes swing back to Elizabeth as her nails dig into his skin. "He stopped it- with one hand-" she gasps, her chest stuttering as she tries to breathe. _"Meliodas."_ She _sobs_ his name in despair.

"Oh no," Merlin breathes, "No, no, no." She places her palm flat on the side of her cheek, forcing her head in her direction. "Elizabeth? Elizabeth, wake up now." They all watch, but the queen only groans again, trying to curl to the side and into a ball. Merlin tries again, slapping her cheeks with light force.

"Mom?" Tristan leans down towards her, trying to pull her up to look at him as she yanks herself from Merlin. "Mom, wake up." He raises his voice as she shakes her again. _"Wake up!"_

She screams again, the sound hitting him like a blow. _"Sir Meliodas!"_ Her voice is shrill again, her back nearly arching off of the bed. "Sir Meliodas! Answer me, please! Please!" Her voice is strangled, choking, before cracking into a whimper of a continuous string of "not like this, not like this not like this," that repeat over and over, until Tristan feels his eyes well up with blistering tears.

Overwhelmed with the horror of seeing her this way, Tristan lets go of her upper arms and pulls back, but Elizabeth's grip on him keeps him from moving away. He looks up at the others with pleading eyes. "What do we do?" His gaze moves from Merlin, to King, and back to Merlin again. "Merlin! What do we do?"

"What's going on in there?" Diane's voice calls from outside the tent, her eye peeking inwards. "Elizabeth? Are you okay?"

Elizabeth gives another scream as they watch helplessly. _"No!"_ she sobs. _"Stop this madness! No more, please!"_

"What the hell is going on in here?" another voice shouts, and Tristan feels himself pushed roughly to the side. He stumbles back, ready to launch himself on the intruder, but stops when he sees it's Tamise. The girl doesn't say a word but climbs onto the bed, grabbing the sides of Elizabeth's face and holding her head still as she looms over her, and with a firm grip she dips down to search her face.

"Tamise?" Merlin says hesitantly, and after a moment the girl answers, still locked on Elizabeth's eyes, "She's trapped. She's losing her mind to this. Whatever this is, it's on a loop. I can see her mind unraveling like a spool of ribbon." Tamise looks over her shoulder at Tristan, and through his grief and his fear, he is surprised to see what looks like concern on the girl's face. "You have to get her out of here. You need a healer."

"But the queen is a healer!" King exclaims.

"And now she needs one," Merlin bites out, standing up. "We go back to the ship. Her powers will return, and hopefully she'll snap out of this."

"Hopefully?!" Tristan cries out furiously, and he looks up at Merlin with a sudden vehemence. "You brought us here. You _knew_ that the Island would stop her healing. You knew this would happen-"

"I had no idea this would happen," Merlin says slowly, calmly, even as Tristan continues, "You knew her powers would not work here, and now look at her! You need to fix this, Merlin! Right now!"

Merlin tilts her chin up, her expression returning to her usual cool confidence. "We will get her back to the ship. Then we'll go to Camelot. My things are there, and I can work on something-"

"She's not one of your damn experiments, Merlin!" Tristan shouts.

"Hey!" yells King, his hand firm as he grips the prince's shoulder. "Get a hold of yourself. She's right. We need to get her back to the ship."

Tristan pushes his hand away in a rage, his expression closing off even as his eyes _burn_ , and then he pulls Elizabeth back into his arms, lifting her and carrying her out of the tent. He passes Lancelot, who is still and silent in shock from the quick movements. His friend nods to him as Tristan darts his eyes to his, the future Fairy King moving briskly behind him.

"Wait!" shouts King, as he and Merlin hurry to follow, but Tristan walks as fast as he can with the struggling queen, who is still sobbing and screeching against his shoulder. She twists in his hold as he takes the main road out of the village, "Back off already!" Lancelot says with a warning tone to the Sins as they try to follow, falling into step on Tristan's side.

Suddenly the wind is knocked out of him, and the wind rushes by his ears as he realizes that he has been scooped up by Diane. The giantess holds him up her eye level and says, "Stop it, Tristan! Let us help!" Her voice quivers for a moment, her eyes tearing up. "We all want to help Elizabeth, not just you!"

Tristan cradles her against him, seeing Lancelot squawk as he clings to Lady Diane's opposing shoulder, and Elizabeth sags in exhaustion; but he can feel her shaking, her hands still clutching him, and he grits his teeth as he waits for the screaming to begin again. "Can you get us to the shoreline?" he bites out forcefully, looking up at the giantess as Diane nods, sniffling softly as she climbs to her feet.

"We'll follow you!" King calls up but then Diane takes off, running as quickly and carefully as she can, cupping the queen and the prince between her hands as Lancelot lets out a loud, "Holy shit!" at her speed, as she makes it out of the villages in only a few more bounds. Elizabeth begins a new round of sobbing, and Tristan focuses on breathing deeply to keep his own panic at bay as he holds her to her chest, her legs kicking at him.

It takes a fraction of the time from before, the island flashing by them in a flurry of rocks and mountains and hillsides in the dark of night as Diane practically sprints across the island; and to his relief he finally hears her boots crunching on the rocky shore, hears the sound of waves crashing against the stone, and he feels them being lowered to the ground. He stumbles out of her hand as Lancelot hops down, landing on the gravel hard as Tristan sits on the ground and pulls Elizabeth up against him with trembling arms. Tristan looks down at her finally, his stomach lurching, the moment reminding him of their last journey, when he held her just like this in Vaizel. Why does he keep making this mistake, again and again? Why can't he protect his own _mother?_

 _"Th- th- there you are,"_ Elizabeth gasps. Her breathing is uneven, her chest heaving as she takes quick shallow breaths, her fingers clawing the back of his shirt and into his skin. "Not like this. Not like this."

Tristan feels a tear trail down his cheek, and then another, as he helplessly watches her. "Mom," he chokes again. "Mom, please." Diane stands, looking down at them both with trembling lips before she squeezes her eyes shut and takes off back in the direction they came. Lancelot hurries towards the water, waving his arms to signal the waiting ship, but Tristan takes no notice. He simply stares at her, wishing furiously that his father was there, that he could think of something to do. But to his relief, eventually, her cries begin to subside, and she turns and presses her head against his arm, her breathing beginning to slow.

"Can you tell me- tell me more about- about the children?" she stutters, and Tristan looks down at her with unease as her teeth chatter. This must be a new memory, but how? Is it because they were finally at the beach? What should he do? He swallows thickly and opens his mouth to answer, but Elizabeth cuts him off, whispering, "Every time I look at him, all I see is you."

Tristan trembles, shaking his head, unable to speak from the grief and the terror that tries to swallow him up; he wonders who she is speaking to now, and when she had asked something like that. Her lips are moving soundlessly, her eyes slowly closing and opening, and Tristan heaves a deep breath before pulling her up and speaking softly through a thick throat, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Mom?" he says slowly. "Do you remember how you used to make me practice dancing?" Tristan chuckles with a choked off sob. "I was so bad at it, mom. But you said that princes had to dance." He laughs against the top of her head, "I gave you such a hard time, but I really did like it. You would make up songs and we'd have chocolate afterwards."

He glances down, blinking through the tears that are still slipping over and down his cheeks, and he sees Elizabeth has stopped talking. Encouraged, he continues, "Remember- remember when I fell off the horse and got stuck in the mud? And when I crawled out my boots were still stuck in there, so the guard went in to get them, and he got stuck, so Dad had to go in and get them, and then he- and then _he_ got stuck?" Tristan laughs again, his arms shaking as he holds her. "He- he was so mad, but you laughed so hard."

Then he sucks in a breath and continues, "I remember the day I left for my service to be a Holy Knight. You said you were so proud of me and I… _I wanted to make you proud. I wanted…"_ He feels her fingers clench his shirt again, so he swallows quickly and says, "Do you remember that time that Jason and I got caught in that terrible storm? I was so focused on getting him back, but all he cared about was that stupid kitten he found, that sorry-looking half-drowned thing. He wanted you to heal it, but- but-"

"But it was already healed," Elizabeth murmurs, and Tristan jolts at the sound of her voice. "That's right," he whispers back, relief flooding through him as she looks up at him, her eyes wide and afraid, but not focused or clear enough to see him.


	17. When I See You Again

**A/N:** I'm so happy. Every time I let Lickitysplit out to see the light of day and smell fresh air, she says it is a blessing. Our friendship is so wonderful. It is day sixty something of us starting, The Time When That Thing Kind Of Happened, and I gotta say this story has been such a lovely journey. We are surprised that our fingers have not staged a revolt and fallen off to overthrow this tyranny we force upon them though. A true blessing.

Cerulean Grace: Well, I mean, if you _really_ think we aren't doing enough to make Elizabeth suffer we can totally work to remedy that. We always love to take all of your feedback into account my love, so I'm sure we'll think of something. _**cue lighting flashing and ominous storm cloud rolling in**_

lady0daisy: Aw, that the best compliment we could ever get love. So we love you- very very much. Thank you

BettyBest2: You are very observant my dear, and we are glad you loved our little Tamise trying to get some sexy Prince bootie.

CaptainTwiggy0918: laughing at demon dicks is both mine and Lickitysplits past time I'm afriad, so don't feel too bad at joining this elusive but wonderful club. And when you said Tristan thought with the "right head" we giggled.

MarianaBuBuLuBu: _*nods*_ yep.

Chapter seventeen: When I See You Again

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Meliodas enters his room, pulling off his vest and unbuttoning his collar in relief, and he places his crown down on the desk by his study. He then kicks off his shoes as he heads towards his bed, thankful that his work with Margaret is finally over, agreements signed and assurances made. The delegations were now making their way home back to Reikness, and he can honestly sigh in exhaustion as he flops down onto the pillows.

Sprawled out on his back, he stares up at a tiny crack in the ceiling with his arms spread out; he had been grateful for the work to keep him from worrying about Elizabeth, really, but now that it's over and he looks at her pillow, there is a small pang in his chest. It is his second night without her, the sun having set hours ago, and he wonders what she is doing, and if they have even reached the island yet.

 _No sense staying around here,_ he thinks with a huff, sitting up, and then he is up and changing into comfortable clothes. Slipping a common white shirt over his head and a spare pair of slacks to blend in, he pulls on his old boots and makes his way towards the door. He stops, hesitating by the desk as he looks over at his crown for a split moment, and it seems to stare back up at him. "Nah," he shrugs, closing the door behind him, and a few minutes later he's slipping out of the castle and heading down to the Boar's Hat, not bothering with a horse. Instead he takes off at a relaxing sprint through the city streets, that leaves window blinds flapping and loads of women squeaking as skirts and dresses fly up into the air, spinning a few knights heads as he rushes by, and he arrives without breaking a sweat, hopping up the steps happily. The lights are glowing warmly in the dark, the chime of the door just as cheerful as always.

Meliodas is surprised to see he wasn't the only one with the idea. "Caaaptain!" Ban shouts, the red tint to his cheeks giving him away as he waves his arm back and forth. His long time friend and advisor cackles in his spot in the middle of the party, and Meliodas spots a happily passed out Griamore and Howzer thrown into a pile to the side, another pair of three to four men sprawled out around as he continues, "~About time you showed up! I'm losing terribly to these two!~" He tosses his cards across the table he shares with Gowther and Elaine, his wife in between them.

"Losing is an objective term for this game," Gowther says as he pushes his glasses up, two empty stiens next to him, as he squints with blurry eyes with his own cheeks slightly red, "The goal is to win and not have to drink..- yet it seems that drinking is the prize as well."

Laughing, Meliodas heads around the bar, a positively wasted man sprawled out on his counter trying to salute him, as he snatches up a mug and a bottle from the rack. "I'll have to catch up then. What are you all doing here?"

"Checking on Master," Ban says. "Wanted to make sure the porker was okay without Lancelot. I made him some dinner and he passed right out."

"There wasn't any _crying,_ was there?" Meliodas nods as he pours himself a mug of ale, grinning as Elaine stands. She gives Meliodas a slight smile as he nods in her direction, Ban resting a hand on top of her head. "Now that we know he's okay, I think I'll head back." She gives Ban a kiss on the forehead as he plants a sloppy one on her cheek, giggling as he almost falls out of his seat as he bends over. She sighs good naturally as she steps over more than one pile of men to walk to the front door, at a reserved pace. The king watches her go as he returns to the table, where Gowther is shuffling the cards, and sits in her spot. "Is she alright?" Meliodas asks, gesturing to the door with his mug before bringing it up to his lips for a small sip, the cold harsh brew fantastic as he looks over at Ban with half lidded eyes.

"Yeah," Ban says as he drains his cup, his glazed eyes clearing as he stares at the doorway. "She's still all bent up about the other day. She knows it ain't your fault, but there was a lot of yelling and throwing cups the first night Lancelot was gone. _Buuut,"_ He leans back, throwing an arm over Meliodas shoulder with a loud sigh, "~I think she was more worried than she was letting on.~" He reaches over and snatches up Gowther's untouched third drink, and Gowther holds up a finger, his lips parting to say something, but then his head tilts dangerously to the side. And Ban and Meliodas watch his struggle with amusement. "Any word yet from the ship?" Ban says as he starts to flick Meliodas hair over and over, but he shrugs.

"No," Meliodas says. "But I'm sure they are fine. Deal me in, will you Gowther?"

There's a snort and a twitch from a pile of cuddled knights on the floor to their left, and Meliodas notices another two Holy knights that… he was _mostly sure_ were supposed to be on duty, behind another table completely wasted, and he raises a brow. Did everyone need a drink tonight?

 _Must be the weather,_ he supposes as he finally spots the telltale large pinkish snout poking out from under a barrel near the table, snoring. The game continues into the night, Ban finally slipping off his stool fast asleep after they roll in the second barrel, and he stretches out under the table with a grin and his tongue hanging out to the side.

"Your natural predisposition against alcohol puts you at a great advantage, Captain." Gowther is glaring at him, leaning forward as he tries to see through his blurred vision, and Meliodas shakes his head. He bids Gowther goodnight, shaking off Ban who had curled around one of his legs, and heads upstairs with stumble to his step. He stops outside of the second floor bedroom, his hand on the doorknob, wondering if this was a good idea after all.

 _What a coward,_ he says to himself, wincing with a small smile as he steps inside. The door clicks closed behind him as he looks around in the dark, his hands on his hips. He had been here just a week before, when he had to hunt down Elizabeth on her first escape trick out of the castle. The memories that had flooded then were more than he could count, good and bad, but at this moment, the only thing he can think about is the shape of her figure under the blankets in this bed.

He kicks off his boots and climbs up in, pulling back the covers and makes himself comfortable. It's empty, devoid of her warmth, but it feels just the same as it always did, as if it wasn't more than two decades since they had lived in the tavern and shared this bed.

Meliodas looks up at the ceiling and sighs. It is probably not a good idea for him to be here, after all, but the alcohol does the trick of relaxing him enough, so that when his heavy eyes close, he promptly falls asleep.

It's much too early for his tastes when he hears Hawk shouting for him, his eyes opening as he lays still. The pig had jolted him from his dream, and the first thought that enters his groggy mind is to wonder why his ropes are gone. But then Meliodas remembers he hasn't worn those ropes in many long years, and can't help but chuckle as Hawk continues to shout, "Meliodas! Get down here!"

"I'm coming!" he calls back, sitting up.

All this shouting was probably killing everyone downstairs, as he figures the pig had found Ban exactly where he had left him under the table… or maybe saw just how much of the stored ale they had helped themselves to last night. He imagines the group of ten or so men Hawk also probably had to roll out the front door, wasn't a help, and all of this was going to stack against Hawk. Meliodas would not be surprised if the porkie could cook himself from the angry steam coming out of his head in rage. Meliodas splashes some water on his face in the bathroom before he tugs on his boots, and he hops down the steps two at a time. "Relax," he calls out, "I'll take him back with me-"

He pulls up short, when he sees three guards standing in the main room.

One was eyeing Ban strangely as he slumps back across the bar, the other trying to kick at one of the still passed out men, hissing for him to wake up, and they stare at Gowther, who stares back from the corner. The third clears his throat, and together they give a bow. "What's all this?" Meliodas asks, eyeing the man who steps forward with trepidation. The sun wasn't even _up_ yet, what could they need?

"Sorry to disturb you, Sire," the third one says. "There is an urgent message from Camelot. We were dispatched to find you as soon as possible." He reaches out a hand, where a large envelope is clasped, and Meliodas sees King Arthur's personal seal pressed into the fine parchment. He mumbles a thanks and then heads over to the bar, a hand in his tousled hair as he jumps up on a stool next to Ban.

"What is it?" Ban says sleepily, but Meliodas shrugs, snapping the wax seal with an unreadable expression. "Only one way to find out." He says nonchalantly as Ban tries to sneak a peek, pulling out the letter before reading it with a frown. "It's Jason," he says finally as his eyes skim quickly. "He's been hurt. Fell down some steps. Arthur wrote to ask Elizabeth to come." Meliodas crushes the letter in his hand as he looks up, the only sign he isn't happy as his features school over. "Timing couldn't be worse, of course. Has there been any sight of the queen's company?" he calls over to the soldiers.

"No, Sire," one answers.

"Right," Meliodas nods. "Figured it'd be too soon." He sighs, the pang in his chest returning. He never did well when one of the children were sick or hurt. He has an affliction of being overprotective with all of them, but he supposes the task must fall to him in Elizabeth's absence. "I guess I'm heading out to Camelot now. Want to come?" Meliodas says, clapping Ban on the back as he stuffs the parchment in his pocket.

"Sure," he answers with a stretch. "Beats sitting around here waiting for them to get back."

They head straight back to the castle and make preparations to leave, and his blazing hangover with the way the minutes ticked by is far, far too grueling for the King. it wasn't until after a quick lunch, that a mage arrives to use Teleportation to send them to Camelot.

"You sure about this?" Ban leans down to mutter in Meliodas' ear, eyeing the obviously inexperienced apprentice who is nervously checking her notes to prepare for the spell, and she spills supplies out of her bag and into the middle of the room.

"Better than riding a horse for five days," Meliodas shrugs.

"We could just run. Mama Hawk could give us a ride?" Ban mumbles, hoping he'd agree as the apprentice looks at one of her materials like _she doesn't know what it is,_ but Meliodas just shrugs, so Ban snaps his fingers. "Hey! You!" The mage looks up in surprise. "Yeah, you. If I get to Camelot and my head is on this tiny body," he says, pointing at the king, "I'm going to rip your lungs out, you got me?"

The mage's eyes go so wide Meliodas fears they may pop out of her head. "He's just joking," he says with a smile, but something must of been off about it because she simply pales further. The apprentice goes back to furiously flipping pages through her journal. Moments later, she snaps the book shut and extends a hand out. _"Teleportation,"_ she says, and Meliodas cannot help but wince as he feels his body suddenly pushed through space.

He feels himself materialize, and peeks through one eye. Thankfully, Ban is in one piece next to him, and the two men both breathe a sigh of relief to find themselves in the main courtyard of Camelot, people rushing by and going on about their daily business.

"Your Majesty!" Meliodas turns to see a formally-dressed man rushing over to them. He gives a bow. "What a wonderful surprise. My name is Lucan, I am head of the household here."

"Hello there," Meliodas smiles brightly, and and extends his hand to give him a firm shake. "Of course I remember you, Lucan. I received a message from Arthur about my son."

Lucan nods. "Please allow me to show you to His Majesty."

Meliodas and Ban follows the man across the courtyard and into the castle. Lioness and Camelot are close allies, and both of them had spent plenty of time there, so many of the people and rooms are more than familiar. When they reach the throne room, Arthur is sitting in his chair and speaking to a group, but dismisses them when he spots Meliodas approach.

"My dear friends!" he exclaims, stepping down to greet them, and he happily starts shaking hands, extremely enthusiastically first with the king, Meliodas arm waving up and down rapidly, and then with Ban. "What a surprise! What brings you here? Everything alright in Lioness?"

"I received your letter about Jason," Meliodas says, avoiding the question as the king of Camelot steps forward and gives him an informal hug, and Meliodas pats him on the shoulder. "I thought I'd come to see him myself."

Arthur nods, grinning so bright that Ban squints at the glare it causes. "Of course you're welcome! Although it's a shame it's under such circumstances, Sir Meliodas. Jason is doing fine. He bounced back with a small injury but I'm sure it'll be cleared up with the queen's arrival." Arthur looks around and continues, "Did you bring Lady Elizabeth with you?"

"Elizabeth is away," Meliodas clears his throat, his hands on his hips as he looks up at Arthur. "I can fill you in if you'd like, but first I'd like to see Jason."

"Right!" The king of Camelot waves Lucan over as he turns back to his desk, and Meliodas takes a little pleasure in knowing the man seems as busy as he, as Arthur asks, "You will join me for dinner?" Ban agrees, of course, as Meliodas nods his head, already following after the Lucan as Arthur sends them away to find the prince.

They uncover him in the garden, balancing as he hops from one bench to another, in a pair of royal Camelot clothing, even though he was missing shoes, his tutor sitting nearby as they recite the alphabet. Jason looks up with a deeply concentrated face, until he spots Meliodas approaching, and he jumps off the bench and takes off towards him faster than the tutor can put his arm out to stop it, yelling, "Dad! Dad!"

Meliodas laughs and scoops him up, holding him under one arm as his son laughs and kicks for a moment before he swings him around. "Hey there! Wait, what happened to you?" He holds the boy upside down and pinches his knee, which is eye-level. "Huh? What happened to your face?"

"I'm down here!" Jason shrieks, smacking Meliodas' thigh repeatedly. "Whoops," he says, spinning him back up, and the blond haired boy throws his arms around his neck and squeezes tight. "Dad! You're here!" he shouts.

"Of course," he says blandly, giving him a squeeze before he sets him back down, and Jason hops up and down, beaming with continuous yells of "Hi Dad hi Dad hi Dad," over and over. Meliodas runs a hand through his thick but straight hair, seeing how his bangs flop over his eyes now, and makes a mental note to get him a haircut. But then Meliodas frowns, seeing the thick wrapping around his arm, from his upper forearm down to his hand, and Meliodas places his own hand on top of his son's head to keep him still, just for a moment to get a closer look. "Look at you. Does it hurt?"

"Not really. It did at first, really really bad but- Hey Uncle Ban!" Jason whips around to look up at Ban as he waves with his good arm, keeping his left unmoving and guarded by his chest.

Ban folds his arms over his chest, looming his whole body over the boy as he stares down at him with a serious expression. "Are you older? What are you, ten? I thought you were six."

"I'm not ten!" he grins, showing off one missing tooth, "and I'm not six either. I'm six and _three quarters._ Which means I'm _almost_ seven. Is mom here?" Jason looks around.

"Sorry, no." Meliodas shakes his head, as Jason again goes to ask more questions, and he quickly adds, "She's actually with Tristan, out on a bit of a trip."

"Tristan?" Jason gasps, stars in his eyes. _"Tristan's home?"_

Meliodas grins as the boy jumps up and down in excitement again. "Yes. You'll see him soon. Meanwhile, are you studying hard?" he asks, looking over at the tutor as the man smiles back, bowing slightly.

"Yeah, but Dad, do you want to see my room? Please?" He grabs Meliodas' hand and pulls him back towards the castle before he can say anything, being pulled away Ban waves them off, turning with a whistle to head in the opposite direction. Meliodas can only smile as his son drags him expertly through the hallways, talking nonstop the entire time as the people they pass smile down at him at his antics.

"-And _then_ he said I was the best rider he ever saw so young, and that I could probably start in the tournament in a couple of years, and _then_ \- oh wait, here's my room!" Jason dashes in, startling the nurse who was straightening up. The plump woman with a kind face jerks up from under the bed, a toy in her hand as she gives a sitting courtesy, and says, "Your Majesty! We did not expect you!"

"I thought I'd come and check on the prince myself," he answers pleasantly, and Jason starts to pull out books from the bookshelf, calling over, still keeping his one arm unused as he looks back, "I got some new books Dad, look!"

"He's doing quite well, Your Majesty," the nurse says with a fond smile as she stands all the way up. And she is a rather very tall woman, as Meliodas leans back further and further to keep eye contact with her. She was probably the same height as Ban, but her large and well curved body just seems to give off the feel of nurturing and motherhood. "He's a very polite and curious little boy," she smiles, "A bit shy at times, the poor thing, with new people and other children, but you should be quite proud of him. It's a shame about the injury. I don't know why he was out of bed so late. The queen did not mention he was a sleepwalker."

"Sleepwalking?" Meliodas frowns. "He's never done that before." He folds his arms as he looks over at Jason, who is struggling to carry the books in his good arm. "What did the physician say?"

"He didn't think it was broken, because children's bones are more flexible. Perhaps just very bruised. We are keeping it wrapped until the queen can come. Is she here, Your Grace?"

"No," he answers with a sigh, but then Jason is showing him his bed and his dresser and his new shirts and his writing set and the desk where he had some drawings, pulling each one out to describe what he drew as Meliodas murmurs praise on each one.

The nurse makes a discreet exit with soft giggling as he sits on the bed, Jason handing him page after page, and he is already a bit tired from Jason's boundless excitement when he says, "Can you tell me what happened with the arm?"

Jason stops running around, and the sudden quiet that takes over the room is _shocking_ as he pauses at the foot of the bed. Jason looks at him for a second, before turning away, and Meliodas does not like how after a quiet moment, he flops forward onto the mattress, making his father wince. "I don't want to," he mumbles into the bedding, his face down.

"Why not?" Meliodas says with a laugh, but he looks at his son strangely as Jason's somber mood remains. He's never not wanted to talk about something before. The boy mumbles again, this time much quieter, and Meliodas leans over and tugs gently on his hair. "I can't hear you."

With a loud sigh Jason leans up on his good arm. "Because nobody _believes_ me," he whines.

"Believes you about what?" Now Meliodas is frowning, searching Jason's face. He can't ever remember a time when the boy had ever not told the truth. About small things, sure, like brushing his teeth or that one time he said he liked fish so he wouldn't hurt a cook's feelings...

Jason's eyes dart to the side, and for a moment his mouth twists. Then, he whispers, "There was something in my room."

Meliodas tilts his head to the side. "Something in your room? Like a spider?"

 _"Nooooo,"_ he says quietly, hunching a bit into his shoulders, as he whispers a hesitant, "It was the Boogeyman."

"The what?" Meliodas says flatly, but Jason is very serious as he rushes on, "Lancelot told me about him! He comes in your room at night, and- and if you dream about him, then he eats you in your dream! And then when you wake up you're _dead."_

Meliodas grumbles under his breath. Figures this would come from that brat. "There's no such thing as the Boogeyman, Jason."

"No, he was real! I swear!" The boy climbs up on the bed, and the king is surprised to see tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. "He was here, he was standing right there by the bed," he points at a specific corner, "and I knew he wanted to eat me, and Mom said if I saw him, I should run, and so I did and then I forgot where I was going and I fell but he might have pushed me because-"

"Hang on," Meliodas frowns, holding up a hand to stop him before he pulls the prince, who is now sniffling back his tears, up on his lap. A small arm wraps around him as Jason flops his head onto his shoulder. "What did your mother say?"

Jason takes a shaking breath, before mumbling, "She said if I saw the man in my dream, then I should run away."

He frowns as he rubs his son's back comfortingly. "Why would she say that?"

"I was scared of him," Jason replies with another loud sniffle. "I think Mom was scared of him too."

A sudden chill races down Meliodas' spine. It's one that goes down his skin and sets his hair standing on ends, and the comforting smile freezes on his lips as he tilts his head a bit, to see Jason's face, making out how his eyes are squeezed shut and tears catch in his lashes.

"Did... your mother see him too?" he keeps his voice even, his hand still rubbing up and down, but Jason just shakes his head.

"She doesn't dream about him. But Dad, _listen,_ you gotta," he says very earnestly, pressing his forehead into Meliodas shoulder, his voice shaking, "You- you _have to_ believe me. Everyone says it was just a dream. But it wasn't a regular dream because I really fell. The Boogeyman, he pushed me. And it wasn't a blue dream because those are always blue. So it _had_ to be real life."

"Wait," says Meliodas. "What's a blue dream?"

Suddenly Jason's eyes go wide as he jerks back, his head snapping up to look at him. "...Mom told me not to tell anyone," he whispers, twisting in his hold, and fear grips Meliodas' heart as he tightens his hold so Jason stays in his lap. Meliodas focuses on keeping his expression calm, his smile even, and he rubs his son's back soothingly. "It's okay, you can tell me, Jason."

"Is Mom okay?" Jason asks suddenly, his eyes wide as he looks over father's face, clearly searching him for any sign as he nervously picks at his own shirt.

"Of course she is," Meliodas says, feeling only slightly guilty about the lie. "Why wouldn't she be?"

The boy frowns and then says, "Because you came when I got hurt and usually Mom does it. Is she going to be here soon?"

Meliodas doesn't respond, but instead simply stares at his son sadly. Jason stares back too, before he gives him the smallest and most unsure smile he's seen on his son's face; and Meliodas reaches out and pulls Jason up to him in a fierce hug as his son's green eyes blink away tears. The boy happily presses his cheek to him, and Meliodas tries to keep his hands from shaking.

He squeezes his son with a huff and a grim smile. He should have known it would be impossible to hide anything from this kid.

* * *

"Lady Elizabeth doesn't remember anything?" Arthur asks, his hand which holds his cup momentarily freezing, "Not of the war or the aftermath? Not even- not even…" The servants clear away the last of their dinner as Arthur's eyes go wide, clearly thinking of every monumental moments that had happened between them since, and Ban gives a quick, "Yep," as the king of Camelot sputters.

"She can't," Meliodas shakes his head. "Nothing since she was seventeen. She's completely unaware. The last thing she remembers is my battle with the Commandments at Vaizel." He doesn't offer anything more, allowing Arthur to make his own conclusion as he slouches in his chair, taking a small chug of his ale, and Arthur gasps.

"But that would mean she knows _nothing!"_ the king is all but shouting, before seems to lose his thunder and slouches more over, his face grave. "Not even about how you- how her and I are…" he trails off with a wince as he thinks, before continuing with a hesitant, "What- what will you do if this Great Leader can not help?"

"Dunno," Meliodas shrugs. "Keep searching, I suppose. I won't lose her to this."

Arthur nods, "For all she has done for all of us, and both of you are my close friends. _Anything_ I can do, Camelot is at your disposal!" his expression turns grave as he clenches a fist, "But, I am glad to hear that Merlin is already working with you on this." Arthur drains his wine goblet before handing it to a servant, and he never looks away from Meliodas as his expression becomes grave.

"~ Yeah. Merlin's been helping the queen for weeks now," Ban says, ripping a piece of bread and popping it into his mouth.

"I wanted to ask you about that," Meliodas says to Arthur. "Did you have any idea Elizabeth had gone to Merlin with all this?"

The younger king shakes his head. "Merlin didn't mention anything to me about it, not that she necessarily would." He frowns. "Lady Elizabeth didn't say anything to you either?"

"No," answers Meliodas. "I asked Jason about his fall. He says the Boogeyman chased him out of his room." The other two give him a curious look, and Meliodas sighs. "Apparently Lancelot told him about a Boogeyman that eats you in your dreams," he explains with a sideways glance to Ban.

"That kid," Ban mutters, shaking his head.

"Jason is convinced this chased him the other night, and that's why he was out of bed. He says he was pushed." Meliodas leans his elbows on the table and steeples his fingers together in thought. "Is it possible that… that someone was there?" he muses, and then shakes his head with a humorless laugh. "It sounds ridiculous saying it out loud. But with Elizabeth, I can't help but wonder…"

Nodding his head, Arthur says, "I'll have the guards increased. We can't be too careful. I promise, we'll keep the prince safe. Unless you'd rather take him back to Lioness?"

"This could be bad, couldn't it?" Ban grumbles, cringing.

Meliodas face doesn't change, and a moment goes by before he nods. "I don't know," he answers. "I'd rather keep him from getting involved in all of this… how can I take him home and let him see Elizabeth when she's not well?" He finally brings a hand up to rub his forehead in frustration, and Arthur reluctantly nods as well. It seems he is going to say more, but then the door to their side opens.

"Sorry for interrupting," says a voice from the door, and they look up to see the nurse towering over the Knights standing guard at the door, with a small but warm smile and her larger hand clasped around another, "I have someone who wanted to come in and say goodnight." Then Jason is zooming from around her skirt, jumping on Meliodas, who pulls him up on his lap. "Dad," he says quietly, "I don't want to go to bed."

Arthur laughs as the prince presses his face to Meliodas chest. "I never wanted to when I was a kid, either," he jokes, Ban throwing out a hand to tousle Jason's hair, but Meliodas frowns a bit when he looks at Jason's expression, how he clings to him, and he sees a bit of fear there. "Alright," he says with a shrug, "You can stay with me for now. Can you sit quietly while we finish talking?"

Jason nods quickly before hopping off his lap, going to curl up on an overstuffed chair in the corner, but he still sits in sight and close enough to them. The chair is next to a grand fireplace that had a small crackling fire open, to keep the boy warm as the prince flops over, watching them, and the nurse bows and makes a quick exit. The three sit in silence again for several minutes, discussing random things too quietly for Jason to pick up on, and Meliodas' eyes stay steady on where his son lays curled up in a ball across the room. The fireplace draws the room into red hued shadows, and he can see Jason's eyes grow heavier, each blink harder than the last. "Hey Arthur," he finally speaks up again, saying quietly, "has Jason complained of any bad dreams, that you know of?"

"Not that I can think of," he looks over fondly at the boy as his head starts flopping over again and again, in his fight against sleep. "The nurse would have mentioned it."

"Jason said he had a strange dream," Meliodas says slowly, looking over at Ban as he leans back in his chair, tapping a finger against the wood of the table, "There was something else he said too; something about Elizabeth telling him not to tell anyone about a man he saw in his dream." He watches as Ban frowns, connecting the dots. "Does that sound familiar?"

"Why would she say that?" exclaims Arthur, and Meliodas only shakes his head.

"It doesn't sound like something she'd say," Ban says. "But that was before Queenie got sick, so we can't know for sure why."

They talk for some time, reviewing what they know about the other cases, and Ban brings out the notes to show the king that Elizabeth had taken. They go over every little detail, from the little comments his wife had written down, since the time Elizabeth had woken up without her memories more than a week ago, to the Island of Barsil. It is well after midnight when they finally start to wind down; Jason fast asleep on the chair for hours now, and Ban had thrown his coat over him as the fire dies out. There are a couple lanterns and candles keeping the room somewhat bright, and when Meliodas decides to retire for the night, popping his back and stretches in his chair before turning to pick up Jason-

He is about to suggest they start this up again in the morning when a guard bursts into the room, slamming the door open. "King Arthur!" He doesn't have time with a bow as he rushes on, panicked as he points wildly behind him and down the hall. "Merlin has just returned! And she has her majesty the Queen Elizabeth with her!"

"Elizabeth?" Meliodas pushes off the table and up and moving, heading back down the hallway and into the front courtyard. He can hear her voice, and the relief it brings only last for a moment as he rounds another corner, when he realizes she's not talking, but _shouting._

"What are we doing here? This isn't- this isn't-!" she's crying out, and Meliodas breaks into a faster run. "We have to go to Sir Meliodas! He's hurt, he- he needs me!"

"No, Elizabeth," Diane pleads. "Please listen. Meliodas isn't hurt, _he's fine."_

"No, no- no I saw him! No, Lady Diane!" Her voice is nearly hysterical now, echoing down the corridor as he rounds a corner, finally spotting the larger open space of the courtyard. "I saw him, he's dying! Gilfrost, let me go, _please!"_

Meliodas skids to a stop, his breath catching.

Elizabeth is held on either side by Tristan and Diane, Elizabeth clawing at their son as she struggles in their grasp, her eyes wild and pleading, and she wails again. Merlin stalks before them, heading in the direction of her building, focused on where they are heading while Lancelot and King try to help reason with the queen. "They're going to kill him!" she wails, stumbling as she starts to sob, and Tristan hikes her more up into his grasp, all but picking her off the ground. "W-w-w we have to- we have to go help, please! _Why won't you help me?"_

"Elizabeth?" Meliodas says in horror, and for a moment, everything freezes. They all look at him as Lancelot stumbles by the door, and he stares at Elizabeth, who is staring at him with wild eyes. His eyes flicker up to Tristan, and sees the deep pain in his expression, his red stained eyes- _he has been crying-_ and it's all at once clear that the trip to the island did no good, that Elizabeth is no better, and she is in the middle of her worst episode yet.

 _"No!"_

Suddenly she screams, sobbing out a heart wrenching, _"Sir Meliodas!"_ as she breaks from Tristan's hold, shaking off Diane and running towards him. Elizabeth throws her arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably, shaking, her teeth chattering as he catches her in shock and holds her steady, her legs immediately giving out. She sinks to the floor and clings to his shirt, and he lowers them both down, holding her against his chest, a hand behind her head as he cradles her.

 _"S-s-sir Meliodas-I thought-"_ She sobs so hard her chest huffs out, clearly a painful action. _"I thought you were dead- how did you- is this real? Is thi- this real?"_ She frantically feels his chest, checking for holes and wounds, pressing against several different places in an utter panicked horror.

"Elizabeth," he whispers harshly in her ear as her teeth chatter harder, her trembling hands grabbing his shirt in a white knuckled grip. "I'm right here."

 _"You're dead,"_ she wails heart wrenchingly, pressing her face against his neck, his shirt quickly becoming wet from her tears. _"You- you- you were dead. Are- are you dead? You were dead. And I didn't want it. Not like this, not like this."_

"No," he says, smoothing her hair back that is sticking to her tear-stained face. "Elizabeth, look at me. See?" He looks over as he tilts her head up, trying to make her look at him as Elizabeth keeps tugging insistently on his shirt, and he sees Diane crying, holding onto King. Merlin stands to the side, her arms folded, her head down and he can see how she won't make eye contact. He can feel Ban and Arthur behind him watching by the doorway as they arrive, both frozen in their place as Lancelot hurries over to his father, tugging on his arm and whispering to him furiously, clearly upset.

Finally his gaze shifts to rest on Tristan, who looks beyond exhausted… then he seems to crumple inward, sinking down to his knees as if he didn't have the strength to stand any longer, and pressing his palms on his thighs as he bows his head. His silver hair falls over his eyes as he kneels there, listening to his mother sob into his father's shoulder.

And as Elizabeth continues to cry in earnest, her words jumbled, Meliodas squeezes his arms, "Hey, hey. It's alright Elizabeth, it's gonna be alright," he just murmurs assurances over and over, rubbing her back and stroking her hair as the seconds tick by. He kisses her forehead again and again, and as he holds her tightly he closes his eyes, pressing his face into the side of her neck and just holds her tightly. He feels her fingers dig into his back, and she clings to him-

"Mom?"

A small voice speaks behind them, and Meliodas' head snaps up to he look over his shoulder, seeing Tristan do the same as he spots a small head of blonde hair poking around of the doorway, still with Ban's jacket around him and dragging on the floor. The little boy is peeking around Arthur's leg before he steps forward, more into the room. "Mom, is that you?"

Tristan bolts, running across the room and scooping Jason up like he weighed nothing. He curls around Jason so tightly, to the point it seems that Tristan needs the hug more, and he puts his body in the way of the boy's sight. "Tristan!" he shouts, his small arm going around his neck, before he tries to twist, "Tristan? What's wrong? What's going on?" He tries to wrench himself free of the large bodily hug, but his older brother holds onto him even tighter. "What's wrong with Mom?"

"Come on, let's go," he hears Diane say, and now Jason is shouting to be put down, to let him go, and Meliodas is torn between holding his sobbing wife or trying to reassure his sons. But then, he realizes Elizabeth has stopped sobbing, her harsh breathing slowly ebbing off into only soft hiccups against him, as she stays curled up in his lap.

But when Jason yells, "Mom!" as Tristan carries him out, Elizabeth sits up abruptly.

Her hands still cling to his shirt, tears continuing to stream down her face, but she slowly blinks and shakes her head, before looking around the room. And then she is focusing back on him. _"S- Sir Meliodas?"_ she croaks, and to his relief, she seems to actually see him this time, to be asking him instead of speaking at him, and her voice is not holding any of the hysterics from before. "What... happened?" she asks, tightening her fists on him.

Meliodas tries to think of what to say, smoothing her damp hair back from her face, when Merlin steps over and kneels next to them. "Your Grace," she says evenly, "you had a bit of an episode. Do you remember being on Barsil? I think you had a nightmare."

"A nightmare?" Elizabeth whispers. She blinks a few times, trying to focus. "I saw-" Her eyes go back to Meliodas, fresh tears welling up, and he gives her what he hopes in a reassuring smile.

"Do you know where you are now?" Merlin asks, her eyes roaming over Elizabeth's face.

Elizabeth continues to stare at Meliodas a moment longer, before she slowly looks around. "No," she says with a small voice, placing a hand on the ground as she turns away, "I-I don't- have I been here?" Her eyes land on the others and she says, "Sir Ban? Sir King? And King Arthur? What…?" The tension seems to leave her suddenly, and Elizabeth sits heavily on the floor, her shoulders sagging. "I- I- I did it again, didn't I?"

"It's fine," Meliodas says firmly, standing and pulling her to her feet. Her clothing are completely drenched through with sweat, and she's still shaking, her skin incredibly pale. "You need rest. Everyone should just get some rest." He gives Merlin a look. "We'll speak in the morning." Then he wraps his arm around Elizabeth, turning to Arthur. "Can we stay tonight?"

"Of course!" the king says, pointing furiously to the servants watching in shock, and then the courtyard springs back to life as the few many people awake at this hour run here and there, helping the guests and leading them away. Arthur and Ban speak for another moment, but Meliodas doesn't pay any attention to it, before Ban leaves with Lancelot. Arthur calls for his Holy Knights as Meliodas looks at Elizabeth, seeing she is exhausted, so he lifts her up in his arms and follows the waiting servant who tells them she'll lead the way, and he carries her to bed.


	18. When It's Too Late

**A/N:** Hello all, it's lickitysplit again, absolutely floored that I'm writing the author note for CHAPTER EIGHTEEN! I work nearly exclusively in short stories, so the fact that this story has come this far is astounding to me. I must once again give my deepest thanks to woundedowl as we move closer to the ending for allowing me even this small role in her novel.

On a personal note, I'm so pleased by the warm reception Jason received last chapter. I happen to know a six-and-three-quarters-year-old very well, and his dialogue and actions have been taken directly from that lovely creature.

Sassykitten1701: Woundedowl has many strange and fabulous theories about NNT, including about Arthur and Elizabeth. That line is completely up for interpretation.

BettyBest2: Why would Elizabeth keep this secret? Will Jason be of any help? Excellent questions.

Vhosek: Your review was heartwarming as well. Keep looking up, some nice lovely Meliobeth is up there somewhere, I'm sure.

Peacerockgirl123: We know…

CaptainTwiggy0918: Imagining Meliodas as anything other than, well, Meliodas is quite a challenge, so thank you for that. I'm so glad you are enjoying the entire family.

Chapter eighteen: When It's Too Late

* * *

It was so late at night that only random flickering lanterns accompany them down the hallway as Tristan walks at a brisk pace. Jason is wiggling and whining in his arms, the older prince all but stomping past dimly lit corridors as he keeps his gaze forward. It isn't until his little brother starts whacking at his head that he hisses out, "Jason, stop!" more harshly than he had ever intended, and Jason flinches back.

"But Tristan, that was Mom!" he shouts over his shoulders, trying to lean over to look behind them, as he gets even more tangled in the large jacket around him. "I wanna see Mom! Mom! _Mom!"_ he whines as he swings his good arm around and throws his legs. Tristan shifts him around onto his waist, but he still can't see over Tristan's shoulder. "We're going this way, Jason," Tristan says, his voice hoarse as he walks with a purpose away from the front court yard.

He is not going to let his little brother see that. No, that is not an option. Tristan had thought that Elizabeth was calmer when they had reached the shore, but as they waited for the others to arrive, she started to slip again, going in and out of the past and present that made him more afraid than he had ever been. She was still answering him, knew his name, but she was _too confused. Too scared._ By the time Merlin had arrived, everyone hurrying back onto the ship so they could prepare for her to bring them to Camelot using _Teleportation,_ she was gone again, back to insisting that his father was dying.

Back to screaming and crying, and Tristan- he couldn't stand it.

It had been a relief to arrive at Camelot, even as they struggled to calm her down… and even more so when his father had unexpectedly appeared. Tristan had allowed himself to believe that she would be fine, that everything would be okay once she saw him. But his Mother had continued her hysterics, every scream and tear and sob feeling like a stab to his chest.

There is no way he is letting Jason see that.

"Tristan!" Jason wails, tugging away from his grip that is iron tight, his waist not moving an inch under his older brother's hold. "Come on, please!" He pounds on his shoulder, and Tristan pulls up short and pauses for a moment.

"Which way to your room?" he asks in a clipped tone, and his face is stern and serious.

Jason stops punching him long enough to sit back and look at him with a pouting lip and watery eyes. "That way," he mumbles sadly, pointing down a hallway behind him, and Tristan wastes no time heading in that direction. When he finally reaches the bedroom, he says, "I will put you down but we are staying here, do you understand?" The boy only sniffles, so Tristan insists, _"Do you understand?"_

"Yes," Jason mumbles, and slowly Tristan lowers him to the floor. Then he walks over to the bed and sits on it heavily, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees and bury his head in his hands.

For several agonizing moments Tristan simply concentrates on breathing, his lungs still shaky, his throat still too tight and his legs still feeling like stone. And there is a deep exhaustion settling into him, but he feels too anxious as he squeezes his fingers into his hair, and he doesn't do anything but breathe in and out, in and out.

His breath shakes as he breathes out slowly.

This… how could all of this have happened so quickly? How was he supposed to- what was he supposed to do? What was he- His hands continue to shake as he leans forward, until he is all but putting his head between his knees so he could _breathe._ Over and over he sees the fear on her face, hears her voice screaming, and Tristan battles his own panic when he thinks how much worse she has gotten since they brought her to Vaizel.

Only a sniffle or two comes from his younger brother, until Jason finally says, "What's wrong with Mom?"

There's a silence as Tristan squeezes his eyes shut, quickly trying to find an equilibrium so he can deal with the matters at hand. "It's complicated, Jason," he answers with a deep breath, staying seated with his back slouched forward, as he tries to come up with something. "And- and I don't know."

He risks looking up, slowly craining his neck to peer through his hands still clenched into his hair, and swallows thickly when he sees Jason wiping away tears with the back of his hand, his face screwed up and his nose running. The jacket that had once been over his shoulders is now in a crumpled heap at his feet, and the six year old yells, "I wanted to see Mom!" again, even louder.

"Well, you can't right now," Tristan snaps, his eyes flicking to the side so he can glare at a desk and not him, as he huffs, "Just- just let Dad take care of her."

"No!" he screams. "I want to see her! Right now!"

"I said _no,"_ Tristan shouts back before growling, "Stop acting like a baby."

There's another long moment of silence as Jason stays standing, taking up as little space as he can as he sniffles loudly and scowls in the middle of the room. Tristan decides this in a good enough time as any to bow his head again and steady his breathing, feeling a new pang in his chest, this time from guilt for saying such things to his little brother.

It's a minute or so later when he hears his brother walk up to him, hesitantly for once, and then he feels Jason lean against his arm. "Is she sick?" he whispers.

Tristan sighs, keeping his hands interlocked over the top of his head, not looking up as he stays slouched. "Not exactly," he grumbles.

"Why was she so sad?"

He shakes his head, not knowing how to explain.

"Are… are you sad too?"

Tristan looks up sharply, meeting his brother's eyes as he hands release their hold, and then he decides to nod after thinking about it. "I'm just… worried," he says slowly, and it's then that he finally notices the bandage, and frowns, "What in the world happened to your arm?"

"I fell down the steps," Jason mumbles softly into his shoulder, and he picks at Tristan's shirt as he stays close.

"Right," Tristan's breath puffs out as a dry laugh in spite of himself, closing his eyes as he smiles. "Typical," he says, nudging the boy with his shoulder. "Come on, get into bed."

Jason's head shoots up. "I don't wanna," he quickly goes to step back, but Tristan is _way ahead of him._

"Well I'm tired, so too bad." In one move he half-tosses Jason onto the bed, the little guy squawking as he bounces a few times, before Tristan leans over to pull off his boots and unbutton his shirt. "Move over, will you?" he swings his legs over after undoing his trousers, spotting Jason's favorite stuffed animal on the dresser and grabbing it with a grunt, and Jason happily scoots to the other side of the bed.

The covers are thrown back, allowing Tristan to slowly crawl in once he is undressed. "Don't snore or I'll put you out the window," he says with a yawn and a half-hearted swat, playfully swatting his brother while trying to jokingly smoother him with his toy, and Jason squeezes it tightly to his chest. Tristan is pleased when he hears his brother giggle as they scoot down and under the covers, fluffing the pillows, and his soft sniffling slowly ebbs away as Tristan blows out the candle by the bed.

Tristan lays on his back, his entire body aching as he looks up at the ceiling, and he feels Jason settle next to him, inching closer and closer as he curls up with the blanket to his chin. He scoots until his back is pressed tightly to Tristan's side, and a quiet settles over the room. Tristan knows it will not last; and sure enough, not three minutes goes by until Jason says, "Is Mom going to be okay?"

"Yeah," he answers quickly, with a whisper, hoping he sounds more confident than he feels. "Dad will figure out what to do."

"He doesn't heal stuff like Mom does though," he whispers back through the dark.

"No, he doesn't."

"Is he gonna get someone who can?" Jason rolls over, and Tristan can feel his brother looking at him through the dark.

"I don't know."

"Can I see Mom tomorrow?"

Tristan squeezes his already closed eyes tighter. "Probably. Go to sleep."

"I'll bring her soup. She brought me soup when I was sick."

"Okay."

"Okay." Jason whispers with finality, and Tristan can feel him nod determinedly next to him, and he goes on, "We'll get up early and check on her and make her soup again. You weren't there before. You were away being a Holy Knight."

"Right." he says blandly, already seeing where this was going. He resists groaning, as the pile of energy that is Jason just keeps going.

"Are you a Holy Knight yet?"

Tristan opens his eyes, starting at the ceiling with half lidded eyes as he swallows. And he says as blandly as possible, "No, not yet."

"Oh," Jason answers, sounding incredibly sad, and Tristan glances over at him. He sees how the one arm is held over the blankets, held so stiffly, and finally Tristan can't help but ask, "How did you fall down the steps anyway?"

"Someone was chasing me," Jason mumbles slowly.

"What?" Tristan frowns. "Who was?"

There is a pause before he answers, and Tristan turns to look at him. He puts his arm under his head as he lays on his side, making out his little brother pouting in the dark. "I can't tell you," he finally says. "It's a secret."

 _A secret? Yeah, right._ Tristan rolls his eyes as Jason huffs, and he pokes him squarely in the ribs, "You can't keep a secret from me," he says blandly, and when the boy does not answer, he nudges him with his elbow. "Tell me."

"I can't," Jason whines. "Mom said not to."

"Mom?" Tristan half lidded eyes open, more awake as that comment takes a moment to process, and then he's sitting up, looking down at him. "Wait. When did she say that?" He looks at the bandaged arm again, his brows pulling down.

"Back home," says Jason. "Before I left. She said not to tell _anyone."_

Tristan frowns, wondering why she would say that. That didn't sound right at all. None of this did. "Tell anyone what? How does this have to do with your arm?"

"That's the secret. About my dreams," he pauses, before adding with another more scared whispers, "And the _Boogeyman."_

Tristan blinks. "The Boogeyman?" he visibly deflates, before falling back on the bed. "Come on, Jason, don't-"

"It's really real!" the boy insists, and the shrillness in his fearful voice catches Tristan's attention as Jason leans over him, sitting up with his feet tucked under him, tugging the blankets up. "She told me if I ever saw him in real life that I should run away, and Tristan, he was right here, so I did, but I fell down the steps." He stalls, his fingers curling into the blankets, before he harshly whispers, "But- but I think he _pushed me."_

Tristan searches his face with concern. Whatever had happened had obviously scared him badly, but what was more disturbing was that his mother had encouraged this fear. Why would she let him believe all this? The idea of Jason, who was so small and so young running through this foreign castle in the middle of the dark night, alone without them nearby or even in the kingdom, only to fall down some steps… he didn't like this.

"She told you that the Boogeyman was real?" He watches as Jason pauses, sinking back down into his bed a little, before he murmurs, "Well, no... she didn't _say_ it was the Boogeyman. She didn't know what his name was. But Lancelot told me about how the Boogeyman eats people in their dreams, and that's what this guy was trying to do!" His hands shoot out to grab Tristan's sleeve, tugging hard, "So it _has to be him!_ Because he was in my room! Mom knows he's real too."

Alright, _that_ was distressing. "Jason, I don't understand any of this."

Jason holds his breath for a moment before saying, "If I tell you," he holds the air in, barely audible, "do you _promise_ not to tell anyone?" His voice grows very serious. "You gotta _swear."_

"I swear," Tristan murmurs, feeling a slow deep crawl of dread go down his back, his stomach dropping as he adds on a quick, "I promise."

The boys look at each other, Jason staring at both of his eyes individually, intensely, before finally nodding. "I have dreams sometimes that are blue. I told Mom, and she looked at me funny, but she asked me to tell her all of them. She told me not to tell anyone else, and that I should tell her if I had another one. But then I had one about _her,_ and she got really really scared. That's when she sent me here."

Blue dream? Tristan wonders, but he decides to come back to that. "What happened in the dream that made Mom scared?" Tristan tries to help as Jason moves even closer, laying back down to curl up on his side, to face him, so he tucks him back in.

There is clearly a mental struggle going on, Jason's eyes moving back and forth as he nibbled on his lip, before he whispers so softly Tristan has to barely breathe to hear him. "Mom… Mom was walking down a long path, and there was a hill at the end of the path, and there was trash everywhere. Like piles and piles of trash all over the place. It looked like all the houses and everything just fell over. When she got to the hill she climbed up the trash, and there were these monsters that lived in the trash and they were chasing her." Jason's voice begins to tremble as he picks at the blanket, murmuring as he goes on, "She- she got to the top of the mountain and she was shouting for Dad... " He stops. looking up at Tristan with his arm squeezing the life out of his toy as voice goes so quiet, that Tristan can barely hear him. His voice so small. "but Mom couldn't find him, and… and after a little while she did, and he was on the ground. He didn't have an arm and… and there were things sticking into him… and he was dead."

For a moment, Tristan could have sworn he felt his hearts stop as his head suddenly felt very light. A cold chill runs up his arms.

 _How would he know this?_ He only knew a few things about that time-just general things, really, that he had gathered over the years. But there was no way either of his parents, or anyone else for that matter, would ever have told Jason. Would they? If not them, then who? Why would anyone tell him-

"I didn't like that dream," Jason says, ducking his head down to press against his toy.

No. No, no, what was going _on?_

"Jason," Tristan leans forward until he can look around the room, his eyes darting to each corner and doorway, and his little brother looks over to him again as he keeps his voice steady, "this guy, the _boogeyman,_ where was the last place you saw him?"

Jason quickly points to the ending of his bed, the side that blocks him from getting to the doorway and to safety- and he doesn't notice how Tristan hides his hands under the blankets as they turn into fists.

* * *

Meliodas cannot sleep.

He turns his head and looks at Elizabeth, sleeping peacefully on the bed next to him. She is curled onto her side, both arms tucked under her, her hands under the pillow and curled almost into a ball as her head rest against them, and he sighs as he thinks how she looks so damn _beautiful,_ even as he sees the slight bags under her eyes, how _pale_ she is from normal.

The blanket has slipped down with her tossing and turning, now covering only to her knees, and her hair is splayed around her pillow. He leans his head against his hand, sitting up on his side as his eyes wander, his weight on his elbow as he takes in the creamy skin of her thigh with half lidded eyes, the graceful curve of her hip. After a long night he had lit a candle by the bed, bathing the room in a warm orange as he lay awake next to her. Her nightgown is bunched up around her stomach, revealing her waist and behind, which he takes in with an appreciative look. Even after all of the years and years they had been together, he still gets a thrill in seeing her beautiful form: the soft curves of her body, the long shimmering hair, the delicate features of her face.

The healing powers she possesses kept Elizabeth from aging much at all, all but regenerating her body faster than it could actually age, so her features still held the flawlessness of a girl in her youth. Not that that would have mattered a damn to him. Lynette always got a kick out of being mistaken for her mother though. Meliodas lets out a soundless puff of air as he thinks back, back to when they had finally started. After the Ten Commandments, after the Goddess and revealing their history and what truly occurred between them, she was still here, still loved him. She _knew everything_ and agreed to be his wife, and he would love her forever more for it.

He twists a lock of her hair between his fingers, glancing back down at her hip.

As exhausted as he is, Meliodas still feels relief to see her finally relaxed. He had taken her to the bedroom Arthur had promised them, and by the time they had arrived the large room was still being set up, Elizabeth nearly asleep in his arms. There were still a few men and women rushing around, the servants still making up the bed and bringing spare clothes and blankets and linens, but Meliodas sent them all away with a thanks, kicking the door closed behind them with a foot; needing space.

It took him a while but he undressed and washed her himself. She was far too out of it, all but dropped against him, barely awake and _completely_ unable as he helped her into the bath. Not even noticing the warm wash cloth he dabbed against her face or up her arms, her eyes struggled to stay open- he had to catch her a few times as she almost fell forward into the water- and he didn't like how she didn't even register any embarrassment from it all. Not that he was going to do anything, but this was _not her,_ and the frown stayed on his lips even as he slipped her into a clean nightgown, laying her in the bed and climbing in with her. Every so often she would whimper, or murmur his name, keeping a firm hold on his hand or his arm, pressing her face into his shoulder, and Meliodas wrapped his arms around her, frowning as she shivered in his grip.

He did not speak, simply stroking her hair and her arms and her back until she finally drifted into sleep.

Meliodas had tried to catch some shut eye himself, his chin on the top of her head, but his dreams were strange, and he had jolted awake several times, thinking he heard her cry out. Once, he had sworn she had screamed, and he had jerked right up in bed; but Elizabeth was still sleeping, unmoving on the pillow beside him.

Elizabeth sighs and rolls a bit, landing almost on her back. Meliodas' eyes go up and grazes over her, and before he realizes it he slides closer, his fingers still twirling that one strand of hair. He is careful not to wake her as he rests his chin on her upper thigh, smiling before he leaves a feathered kiss on her smooth stomach. _This,_ he had missed this. He is gentle, careful to make sure she stays asleep, her skin soft against his lips as he brushes them along her hip, and he hums softly in appreciation. He slowly makes his way back across her body, smoothing out her nightgown as he trails kisses downwards, planting one on her belly button before going towards her thigh, another kiss on her hip bone as he breaths in her scent. He feels himself relaxing in this peaceful moment, with the need to be closer to her, to take some comfort after the pain of seeing her hysterical; and the longing is too sharp and bitter to ignore as he closes the last small distance between them. Meliodas presses his cheek against her abdomen, pausing just to enjoy and soak in the feel of her warm skin against his.

But then he draws his face up and stares with narrowed eyes. He blinks. And then again as he tilts his head to the side, his eyes skimming over her form. Yes, her body is perfect, but... he notices that there is something _different_ now.

He shifts back up on his elbows, his eyes tracing over her even as she begins to stir from his attention.

 _There._

On her stomach, right above her pelvic bone, there is… nothing. The skin is perfectly white, smooth, and free of the marks that he _knows_ she has there from her pregnancies. It was something Elizabeth fretted about in secret, the tiny haphazard lines under her navel that were visible if someone looked just right. He knew, having caught her staring at herself in the mirror more than once that they bothered her somewhat. But they weren't markings caused by an injury- _but by giving life_ \- and he had always speculated that was the reason she could not heal them. He had told her again and again that he did not care, that it made her more beautiful; which it did, sending a thrill through him when he thought about her bearing _his_ children. Having a family and a _life_ he had been denied for so long.

But now, those marks are gone.

"Elizabeth?" he murmurs to himself as he slowly sits up, looking at her with a mixture of confusion... and apprehension. She had those marks, he _knows_ she did, and now that they are gone…

Elizabeth sighs and yawns, stretching a bit before drifting back into sleep. She's on her back now, her lips slightly parted in that utterly cute manner, breathing deeply, but Meliodas barely notices as he searches her face with growing dread. For any clue as to what is going on, what was happening. Because now he is sure that this is _not_ Elizabeth, this is not his wife, but he has absolutely no idea how she could be another….

Quickly Meliodas sits up and leaves the bed, pulling his clothes on and shuffling to get his arms through his shirt as quietly as he can. Heading out the door it's nearly daybreak, the sky just beginning to lighten outside, and the hallways are only beginning to stir. The silent footsteps of maids and servants starting their duties passing him by as he hurries through the castle, down corridor after corridor, heading towards the building Arthur gifted to Merlin for her magical experiments. It is situated on the north end of the castle, just outside the wall, and Meliodas reaches it within minutes, ignoring the early morning chill and much of everything else as he gets to the front.

He raps once before pushing open the door.

There is no answer, not that he had expected one as he steps inside, and the room inside is dim without any lighting except for a single lamp on a table in the center of the room. The curtains are pulled shut, and Meliodas glances over to the lamp. Expect it was floating a few inches above the table, spinning in place as Merlin stands next to it, crouched over a pile of texts and her legs crossed as she leans against a stool. Meliodas shuts the door behind him as he weaves through the piles of items around the room- stepping over chests and boxes and passing a rack of potion bottles holding different body parts. "Merlin," he says, announcing his presence, but she does not even glance up.

"I expected you hours ago," she says instead, her voice dry, as she pulls a parchment out from behind her and unrolls it over the top of the books before her, the roll coming undone to spread across the six foot table and down to the floor.

Meliodas swallows. "I was making sure Elizabeth was sleeping."

"Makes sense," Merlin nods. "Is she calmer now?"

"Yeah," Meliodas grumbles to himself as he brings up a hand to scratch the back of his head. He did not come here to make small talk. "I want to know everything that happened," he answers. "What did the Great Leader tell you?"

There is a pause, before Merlin sighs. She points at a stool and it slides over to her, pushing her into the table as she sits delicately upon it. Her hands smooth over the parchments, reading it for a moment as Meliodas steps closer, before she finally looks up and says, very simply, "Elizabeth is under a powerful curse."

His hearts skip a beat.

"... A curse," he says without emotion. His face blank. It was a curse.

 _A curse._

That wasn't what he expected. Not ever, it hadn't even been in the playing cards. His personal experience being under a curse, under his thrice millennium damned _curse,_ he knew just how dangerous and difficult and horrifying they were to break. Unlike magic spells, even magical abilities, curses can not be deflected and will not respond to a counter attack. They are notoriously difficult to remove- almost impossible, and more often than not, a curse must be left to simply run its course if it wasn't created with a means of breaking it.

No. No no _no._

"There is a mark on the back of her neck," Merlin continues. "It's a noose. The Great Leader described her as 'hanging from the gallows', although I believe he was being a bit dramatic."

"What does that mean?" Meliodas ask slowly in a low tone, his brows drawn down as he takes small, calculated breaths through his lips.

Merlin crosses her arms. "She was right," the mage admits, an unmistakable tightness to her voice. "Elizabeth had said she felt like she didn't belong here. She had told us that she felt like something had happened to _her,_ instead of _inside_ her. And I didn't believe it." She takes a slow breath in as she leans back, a grimace taking over her face. "She is not the queen. She is not the Elizabeth we know."

Meliodas thinks of the missing marks on her body, which now makes sense. There is a sudden sensation of his blood pounding in his temples as he keeps breathing, keeps his face steady and his voice calm. "Is she an imposter? An illusion of some kind?"

"No." Shaking her head, Merlin explains, "It is a curse Meliodas. Elizabeth is _cursed,"_ she meets his eyes as she leaves him no room for discussion. "She has been transported forward in time. Whoever did this snatched her up from that moment in Vaizel, when she had returned for your body, and dropped her here, twenty-five years later. She is Elizabeth, but she is the Elizabeth of _that_ time. She does not have any memories after that day, because she never lived past that day."

There is a pause, a silence stretching between them as Meliodas processes this. Then a new horror begins to dawn on him. "If _that_ is Elizabeth from then, where is the real queen? Where is our current Elizabeth?"

Merlin shakes her head. "I don't know."

Meliodas can feel himself begin to shake, and he grips the edge of a nearby table to steady himself, as he growls, "What do you mean, you don't know?" he punctuates each words as he looks up at her, ready to say more-

"Just listen!" Merlin snaps, and again her voice wavers as she slams a book next to the scroll closed. It's something that Meliodas had not heard in a very long time. "She could be dead. She could be gone to another time herself. Maybe she's back in Vaizel with your body? _I don't know."_ Suddenly the books on the table begin to rumble and open, their pages flipping furiously back and forth as she brings a hand up, covering her face as she stares out from behind the spaces of her fingers. Then the parchments roll themselves up and start to fly around the room, bouncing off walls and landing on bookshelves and arranging themselves in piles. "I've been searching everywhere, every spell and every curse and every form of magic that is known in Britannia. If the answer was here, I would. Have. Found. It."

"Merlin," Meliodas says in a warning tone, leaning to the left to avoid a spinning box, but she continues, books and papers and maps and scrolls becoming more frenzied around them, "There is no telling where the queen is. There is no way to know how or why this happened. The Great Leader told me to cut the rope, and even if I could, _even if I knew how,_ there's no guarantee that Elizabeth would survive. That she would return to her time and the queen would return to ours. Would you even _let_ me cut if, if the only way to break the curse is to kill her? She could be trapped here forever, or she could die, or she could disappear altogether and-"

"Merlin!" Meliodas shouts, and the mage purses her lips as all of the items in the room suddenly cease their wild movements. Freezing in place even as the wind still whips around them. Their eyes lock for an instant, and he wonders what she is hiding in her guarded expression- is that fear? Annoyance?- when someone clears their throat behind him.

"Am I interrupting?" Meliodas looks over his shoulder as Tristan steps further into the room, his face a mixture of apprehension and confusion.

And just like that, everything in the air falls to the floor in one giant, loud _thump._

Meliodas closes his eye as something clatters to the side, the sound of glass rolling as Tristan steps over something. "What is it?" Meliodas says, his tone clipped, and Tristan walks up to the table, giving his father a wide berth. "I wanted to speak to Merlin," his son responds, nodding his head towards the woman who is now calmly watching them both.

He starts to tell him this isn't a good time, but Tristan is already asking, "Did you say that my mother could die? Or disappear?"

"Tristan," Meliodas hisses, but the young man puts up a hand and says, "Stop. I want to know the truth. I- _we_ deserve it." He turns to Merlin with a fearful expression and continues, "Lady Merlin, are you saying… there's no way to help her?"

Merlin takes a deep sigh. "This is a curse, Your Highness. Not a spell. Not an enchantment. I'm sure you've studied them a bit in your training." He nods and she goes on, "This is ancient magic, from even before the First Holy War, when magic flowed through every living creature in Britannia. There was enough magical energy then to enact such powerful things, but, in the millennia since, that energy has faded as that ancient practice become lost. There shouldn't even _be_ enough magic to support them anymore. There shouldn't be anyone able to do _this_ anymore." She frowns for a moment and adds, "We should have sensed a creature with enough magical power to complete this curse a long time ago."

"Then we'll find him," Tristan says, bringing his palm down on the table. "Someone has to be behind this. We'll find them and we'll make them tell us how to stop this." He sucks in a breath and says, "I'll go to Vaizel. We didn't get a chance to actually look around there, and there could have been a clue we didn't-"

"Absolutely not," Meliodas says, and Tristan snaps his face up to match his frown. "That's where this all started," his son says angrily, "that's what she remembers last, and if there is _anywhere_ there would be a clue or something to point us in the right direction, it would be there."

Meliodas clenches his fists, attempting to keep his own calm. He can see the desperation in his son to do something, _anything,_ and he understands because he feels it too. But going to Vaizel is something he will not allow. "You are not going," Meliodas says, keeping his voice hard and even to make his final decision clear.

"Then you'd have us do nothing!" Tristan shouts, his voice twisting with emotion.

"I didn't say that either," Meliodas growls, gritting his teeth as he turns back to Merlin. "You said there isn't enough magical power left in Britannia to do this curse. Is it possible that this is coming from somewhere outside Britannia? From another realm, maybe?"

Merlin shakes her head. "Curses are individualized for the receiver. Whoever this is must be someone who had contact with the queen. But the amount of magical power needed, to be able to cloak that and not be detected…" Her voice fades away as she thinks for a moment. "There must be something else going on, something we're missing."

"I need to get back to Elizabeth," Meliodas says. "Once everyone is up, we will figure out what to do." He turns and heads towards the door and hears Merlin say behind him, "What did you need me for, Tristan?"

"It's about Jason," his son responds, and Meliodas pauses with his hand on the door. "What about Jason?" Meliodas calls over.

Tristan ignores him as she shifts on his feet, and says to Merlin, "He told me he was having blue dreams. Have you ever heard of that before?"

Meliodas huffs, debating on whether or not he should order the prince out so Merlin can work. But he wants to hear the answer himself, so he waits and listens. "Blue dreams?" she says, and he imagines her tapping her chin in thought. "I can't say I have. Do you know what he meant?"

"No," Tristan answers. "But he said he had one about my mother, and it scared her, and that's why she sent him here. And the dream he described… I don't know how he knew the things in it."

"Things like what?" Merlin says, and Meliodas turns to listen, watching her reach for a pen.

Tristan folds his arms. "He said she was walking through piles of trash towards a hill, and there were creatures that chased her that lived there. Then when she climbed the hill, he saw-" At this, Tristan stops abruptly, and turns his face to look at his father.

"Saw what?" Meliodas says, wanting him to continue.

Tristan open, and then closes his mouth- before he sighs and squeezes his eyes shut.

"You were dead," Tristan answers. "He saw you pierced with swords, and you were missing an arm. He was describing Vaizel, I know he was."

Meliodas is across the room and grabbing Tristan's arm in a moment. "How would he know this?" he grounds out bluntly. "Did you tell him-"

"No!" Tristan shouts, pulling his arm out of his father's grasp. "Of course not. I told you, he said it was a _blue dream._ He said he told Mom about them, and- and they scared her." He scowled at his father before turning back to Merlin. "My brother is convinced there was someone in his room too. He called him the Boogeyman, but he said that he has seen him before, in his dreams."

Meliodas looks over at Merlin, and they exchange a brief glance. Jason had told him about this supposed intruder, too, but he had all but dismissed it, especially once Elizabeth had arrived needing his attention. "I believe him," Tristan insists. "He said mom _told_ him not to tell anyone else about his dreams or what he saw. That isn't… she wouldn't do that if there wasn't a reason. Somehow- somehow Jason dreamed about Vaizel, about you, and something scared my mother so badly she sent him to the other end of Britannia. Then a few days later, she is under a curse?" he's clenching his fists, lost in anger, "This isn't a coincidence!"

Merlin looks thoughtful as she says to Meliodas, "With your permission, I'd like to ask Jason more about this. I don't know if this has anything to do with the curse, but maybe Elizabeth said something to him before that will help us figure out what happened to her."

Pursing his lips, Meliodas nods. "I'll bring him here after breakfast, and after I check on Elizabeth."

"No," Tristan says, shaking his head. "Jason is scared enough as it is, Dad, you can't. He's confused about what's going on and I promised-"

"Don't worry," Merlin assures him. "I won't do anything to upset him."

Slowly, the prince nods, not meeting his father's gaze, and with a quick goodbye turns and walks out. Meliodas watches him go with a heavy heart, wanting to reassure him, to say _something,_ but unsure how to even begin.

Several beats go by as he simply stares at the door before Merlin says behind him, "You should probably go after him and ask him what he learned on Barsil."

Meliodas swings his head around, looking at her in confusion, but Merlin seemingly takes no notice of him, her head down and buried in two different books she is referencing at once. He waits for an explanation, and when she remains stubbornly silent he turns and hurries outside, hoping to catch his son before he leaves. To his disappointment, Tristan is gone, and as the king looks around and wonders which way he went, a servant hurries over.

"Excuse me, Sire," she says with a small bow. "Her Majesty is awake and asking for you."

Meliodas nods and follows her back, deciding to find Tristan later. They are well overdue for a talk, but Elizabeth needs his attention first.


	19. Nothing Really Lasts

_A/N:_ Hello lovelies! We are answering you together for this chapter, because both of us had a hell of a week so we played Rock Paper Scissors 247 times to see who would be doing this one and somehow ended up tied. I think we miscounted.

BettyBest2: Jason is gonna go through a lot of things, and we are certainly on a roll with putting our lovely characters through this pain and suffering. We hope you love what we have planned next.

Sassykitten1701: It's an evil curse for sure. We suppose it depends on your definition of "fixing". _**Cue ominous storm clouds**_

Hiyomi: Who cursed Elizabeth? And where is the queen in time? Yes Love, these are excellent questions. And that's about all we can say about that. (Lickitysplit here: shhh, don't tell woundedowl, but for a small fee I may be able help you out-oh shh she's coming)

CaptainTwiggy0918: Yes, we are sure that this has been difficult for Meliodas, but this chapter should clear up a few things. (Like his height, is it just me or does he seem shorter in the Manga lately?) Really? I thought he was looking taller. Hmm. (No he's totally shorter.) Maybe everyone else got taller. (Well, Elizabeth did have a birthday last month right? Maybe he's just screaming in his head for her to stop growing.) He had a birthday too though, don't forget. I think we're imagining things, like this conversation. (Oh, well that's true. Hmm.)

Kayla. Panek: It is so great hearing how much you are enjoying this story! Yes, the past few chapters have been heavy with the information, and there is much more to reveal in the final upcoming chapters. Sometimes even we have to reread stuff, and Merlin keeps surprising us.

LucyDragneel2009: Keep reading, all of your questions will be answered. You won't need a crystal ball, we swear.

Chapter nineteen: Nothing Really Lasts

* * *

Elizabeth's eyes slowly open, focusing to an unfamiliar room, and her heart seizes just for a moment.

Slowly, she sits up, her head feeling like a great weight as she glances around the finely decorated room with a nervous apprehension. The blankets are bunched up at her feet, and she is now in clothes she can't remember putting on, which has the feeling of _deja vu_ hitting her like a piercing stab. She slowly edges to the side of the large plush bed, taking a closer look around the spacious room as she slings her legs over the side, the room dim as sunlight just starts to rise through the window curtains. There is an unfamiliar royal crest on the wall, and she knows for sure she is neither in the Lioness Castle or the Boar's Hat. The second more sure than the first.

Meliodas is nowhere to be found, his side of the bed cold even though the blankets are disturbed.

 _Does… Does he know now?_ she thinks despairingly, the idea almost numbing her body over as she stares at the indent in Meliodas pillow. Had someone finally informed him of the truth? The memories of the day prior slowly return to her: their journey across Barsil, the terrible meeting that had only brought agonizing truth to her and her family, which the Great Leader had to physically show her, the fear and _loneliness_ as she had cried to herself inside of her tent...

Not to her family… to Queen Elizabeth's family. _She isn't the queen._ She isn't _their_ Elizabeth.

The news that she is _not_ her- that she never was- and that she never married Meliodas and is not the mother of his children and certainly not the person everyone believed her to be so much, is more devastating than anything she had ever imagined. Was it only a week ago that she would have been elated with this news? That she was right all along? She places a hand over her heart, squeezing her nightgown in her hand as she sits. It absolutely kills her to know that everything she had felt for this family, how she tried to get closer with Tristan, how to had joked with Lancelot and been scolded by Margaret, how she had gotten the support from Elaine, the kind gestures from King and Diane and everyone else… How she had been held by Meliodas... had it all been a lie?

She has to physically shake off the downward spiral of thoughts, her head swinging back and forth rapidly before she quickly brings her hands up to press against both of her cheeks. She squeaks as she using too much force, before she leans over and hopes to spy a pair of slippers she can slip on, the morning very chilly.

There are pieces missing here, and Elizabeth knows it. And it will be much more important to figure them out first. Between the tent and seeing Meliodas again- what, exactly, had occurred to lead up to this bedroom? She now remembers she is in Camelot as she finds a nice, fluffy pair of slippers under the bed, putting them on as she wanders the room in hopes of something to wear.

She's guest of King Arthur now, she can recall that, and she can also recall Meliodas half-carrying her to bed, vaguely. She mostly remembers his arms around her as he picks her up, half-formed thoughts of him helping her around the room before those same arms wrapped around her, and he reassures her that she is safe. But how did they get here? Why did she go to sleep in Barsil and wake up in Camelot?

 _It's the curse,_ she thinks to herself, and Elizabeth shivers. Merlin had seemed anxious when the Great Leader had revealed the symbol on her neck to them. Unconsciously she rubs the offending spot as she hears the old, loud voice repeating again and again.

 _She is hanging by the gallows._

The door opens and a servant peeks in. "Your Grace?" says a friendly but unfamiliar voice, and a man steps just inside. "Beg your pardon, My Lady, but do you need anything? Some tea or water, perhaps some breakfast?"

"O-oh," Elizabeth swallows as she nods, not wanting to be rude. "Food and tea would be wonderful, please," she says, figuring it would take the longest to prepare and give her more time to think. "And can you- can you find King Meliodas?"

"Certainly," he says with a smile and a bow, and now that she is alone, Elizabeth flops back onto the bed, her head thumping against the pillows after she couldn't find any clothes to change into, and as she fiddles with the hem of her nightgown she tries to use these few minutes to remember what happened, and figure out what to do next.

However, not but a moment later the door opens again, and Elizabeth sits up, startled, to see Lancelot's head popping around it. "Hey Aunty!" he says cheerily. "Are you busy?"

"Well, I-" Elizabeth begins, but then the door swings open. Lancelot shouts, laughing and jumping out of the way, when suddenly a ball of energy with messy blonde hair rushes into the room and jumps on the bed. And Elizabeth finds her arms filled with a little boy who is excitedly shouting as he wraps his own around her in a tight hug. "Mom! Mom you're here!" he exclaims over and over, repeating it like a favorite song.

Elizabeth freezes.

She looks down in disbelief, her back staying ramrod straight as the boy gives her a squeeze, squirming eagerly in her lap, his cheek pressed against her chest as he sighs. He doesn't stop the enthusiastic babble as he snuggles up against her, and she looks up at Lancelot, who is placing a bowl on a nearby table.

"Mom!" the boy shouts, again, and her attention snaps back down at him. His green eyes sparkle as he grins, a toothy smile stretching across his entire face and he half-sits, half-lays on top of her, leaning his head into the bend of her elbow, and continues, "Are you feeling better? Tristan said you were sick. I brought you soup. Remember the soup when I was sick?"

There is a brief pause, and Elizabeth can't think of what to say. The boy smiles up at her adoringly, his body all but melting against her, but as the silence stretches on he frowns. "Mom?" he says sitting.

Lancelot gasps. "Oh no- ah crap, I didn't realize-" Lancelot hurries over to the bed and tugs on the boy's arm. "Come on, Jason, let's give your mom some space." There is a squeal of protest as Lancelot looks at Elizabeth with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, he wanted to come, but I didn't even think about- that he wouldn't know- and ya wouldn't- oh man I really screwed up again, didn't I?"

"It's alright," she says softly, and then smiles down at the frowning boy in her lap. "Are you- are you Jason?"

"Yes, _Mooommm,"_ he's laughing, scrunching up his face. "What, you don't remember me or something?"

Elizabeth swallows as her heart does a little flip. "I just- I didn't recognize you. You look so grown up."

"Well yeah," Jason sits up and puts his closed fists on his hips, puffing up a bit. And he looks _all Meliodas_ in this pose. "I think I grew last night. I'm almost as tall as Lancelot. And look." He opens his mouth and presses his tongue against a hole on the top. "I lost a tooth the _same day_ I got here. Did you even know that?" She shakes her head, but before she can say anything, he rushes on, "I got you soup because Tristan said you were sick. Do you have a fever? Maybe it's a cold. Lancelot carried it but it's from me. Do you want to try it? I tried it and it tastes really good. I think you will like it."

"Thank you," she whispers, her eyes tracing over his round, eager face. He's so small in her lap, his straight blond hair floppy but thick over his forehead and into his eyes, and she tries to focus on what he is saying as her eyes dart around: taking in his little button nose, how he has Meliodas' big green eyes and how he has her ears and most certainly her bone structure, but Meliodas' cheeks, and then they land on the bandaged arm. "Is this- did you get hurt?" Her hand comes up to gently trace his left arm, her fingers barely grazing it.

"I fell down the steps," he replies with a bit of a pout, holding up the arm as best as he can with the heavy bandages. "And Mom, I-" Suddenly his eyes go wide, and he looks at Lancelot who is scratching the back of his head, smiling nervously by the end of the bed. Then Jason kneels up, climbing up her body, and his arms wrap around her neck as he whispers loudly in her ear, "Mom, I saw him in my room. I ran just like you told me to."

"Oh," she says quietly, wondering what that could mean, while bringing a timid hand up to pat his back. "That's-"

"And I didn't tell anyone our secret," he whispers again. "Except Tristan. Is that okay?"

Elizabeth nods and presses her hand firmly against the boy's back, and she takes a deep breath. Holding this boy to her like this- her entire face flushes as she feels her heart beat faster, and she brings her other hand up to rest on the back of his head. "Yes, of course it is."

 _This little boy is Jason._

He lays his head on her shoulder and Elizabeth allows her arms to circle him, pulling him closer. He easily settles his body on her lap, leaning his body weight against her, and she can feel her hands shaking a bit as she presses her fingers against his shirt, wanting to reassure herself that this is really happening and not another dream. She softly presses her cheek against the top of his head and holds him for a long moment.

 _This is not your son._

Elizabeth sharply intakes a breath, trying to ignore the emotion beginning to churn inside her. She is not his mother, but- but she cannot deny the pull that she feels in this moment, not unlike the one she had felt with Tristan. And it feels... somehow it's deeper, stronger and so very maternal, and she thinks about the unquestionable need to hold him just like this that she had experienced days ago, when she had sat in the bath and wondered about the children.

Perhaps the Great Leader had been… wrong somehow? Was it possible? How else could she explain what was happening here? Jason shifts a bit and she looks down to see his bandaged arm.

She slides one hand from his back over the cloth, and as she gently wraps her fingers around it, careful to hold it as delicately as she can- she closes her eyes and wishes him healed, _believes_ him to be. Elizabeth feels the familiar surge that suddenly flows through her body, her eye changing as she pictures it moving in waves through her hand, through her fingers and into his own skin, soaking into his arm. But then there is another sensation, a new sensation, as the energy flows back towards her. Her eyes open with a gasp as she looks back down at Jason, confused; until he mumbles, "I want you to get better, too," and she realizes he is trying to heal her, just as she is healing him.

 _Jason is a healer._ She stares, wide eyed as his face scrunches up again, clearly giving his best effort as he glares into space with concentration.

Elizabeth jerks as she is unexpectedly flooded with images, suddenly remembering all of the events of the night before; her terrible nightmare about Meliodas' death, how the others had argued over what to do as she screamed. She remembers- she remembers Tristan whispering to her on the beach, telling her stories, and the way they had frantically tried to get her to the ship. Then she sees herself getting trapped again, remembering with an amazing clarity the pain of the memories that were torturing her and the chaotic state of her mind when she had finally seen Meliodas.

Then, it's like a candle flame bursting into a wild fire as she sits back, resting her weight on her hands as she takes a deep breath. She can see back even further, remembering her dream on the ship, how it was Tristan trapped in the Goddess Amber that she destroyed in Vaizel. She can see the memories of the Boar's Hat that surfaced when Meliodas had kissed her; then, with a chill in her veins, she remembers being in Vaizel with Tristan and Lancelot. Elizabeth sees the white mask, and feels the uncontrollable laughter, and experiences the cramping and the pain as she reached for the spot where Meliodas died.

It's all back now, all flowing back into her mind, and she gasps.

For the first time since she had awoken in the future, she can remember things clearly, definitively, to a point that she hadn't truly really noticed was missing before. And Elizabeth is filled with an absolute surety that is both steadying and thrilling.

"Hey Mom! Look!" Jason's voice pulls her from her astonishment, and she feels a few tears brimming while he breaks into a grin and pulls off the bandage, quickly unrolling it and tossing them on the bed, before Lancelot whistles at his completely normal arm. "Well, will you look at that!" Lancelot is grinning as Jason swings his arm around with laughter, "Pretty cool huh?" Jason is nodding a mile a minute as Elizabeth laughs, and he comes up to poke Jason in the arm.

"Are you ready for your soup now? Did I help heal you too? Did I?" Jason perks up, and Elizabeth gives a breathy laugh, blinking over and over to clear her sight, and not wanting to let him go just yet, she cups his face in her hands. "Moo- _ooomm,"_ he says with a smile and a roll of his eyes, and then he is hopping off the bed, hovering around Lancelot who is carrying the bowl for him.

"Jason?" They all look up to see Tristan at the door. Elizabeth's eyes widen when she sees his drawn face and the bags under his eyes. She knows immediately he hasn't slept, and there is a pang in her chest when she realizes that it's because of _her._

"Hey Tristan! Look at this!" Jason exclaims, and then he wildly shows off his newly healed arm as Lancelot puts down the soup to play wrestle with him. The two boys have each other in a headlock as she watches him step closer, walking towards the bed.

"That's great," Tristan says, his voice giving away how tired he is. "Why don't we go and give the queen some-"

"I wanna stay with Mom!" Jason says loudly, bolting from under Lancelot's arm to climb up onto the bed, and Tristan takes a step towards him as Elizabeth helps to pull him up next to her. "I don't mind if he stays," she says quickly as Jason laughs, turning to cling to one of her arms.

There is a look in his eyes that remind her so much of Meliodas, even as the rest of his face stays the same, and his expression does not change as he turns to Lancelot. "I thought I asked you to watch him?"

"I am," Lancelot nods. "Jason was really insistent on bringing Aunty some soup. So we did."

There's a pause, before Tristan nods and turns back to the bed.

"Mother," he says again mildly, "Are you feeling any better? You were not yourself last night." He tilts his head towards Jason, folding his arm as he tries to play it off with a shrug, while Jason, who is on his knees next to Elizabeth, is undoing the two little buttons at the collar of her nightgown and buttoning them up again, over and over. "Do you really think that _this_ is a good idea?"

"I… I feel much better, thank you," she answers, trying to be reassuring as she wraps an arm around Jason. The way he is treating her now, as if she is made of glass, is so different from how he has been since his return, when they first met in the closet some days ago, and it makes her feel self-conscious.

Elizabeth watches Tristan hesitate, looking around the room as he presses his lips together. Then he nods, "Sure." He crosses to a chair near the foot of the bed, his eyes never leaving her. Wanting to show him that she really is fine, she gives Jason a pat on the back of the head, threading her fingers through his hair as he glances up at her. "Did you show your brother your tooth?" she asks, and to her relief the boy brightens instantly and crawls down the bed, hopping up to show Tristan as he repeats the entire story of how it fell out at dinner.

"-So then nanny crawled under the table _with_ me, and-" There is a swift knock on the door before it opens, and two servants enter with steaming trays. "Here you go your majesties!" One of the girls chirps out brightly as she deposits a tray on Elizabeth's lap, while the other is placed on the table, the servant girl pouring cups of tea before they quickly make their exit while Jason waves at them.

"Did you all have breakfast?" Elizabeth asks, eyeing the piles of food on her tray that she knows she could never finish, and she holds up some fruit. "Yeah, but I'm still hungry," Jason says, climbing back up to her side. She catches Tristan rolling his eyes, his usual lopsided smile grazing his lips as Lancelot and Jason hurry over, and she stifles a giggle, and begins cutting up sausage and fruit on a little plate as she and the boys make a little picnic on the bed.

Jason is happily munching away as Lancleot makes a show of throwing some fruit in the air before it plop into his mouth, and the youngest is laying on his stomach and stealing from her plate once in awhile, when she gestures to Tristan. "Please come and help me eat all of this," she gives him the brightest smile she can, and after another hesitant moment, he moves to sit on the bed as well.

It's an odd moment, but a happy one, as they share a family meal in bed. Elizabeth can almost imagine that this was real, that- that they were a real family as Tristan nibbles and Jason talks and talks and Lancelot rolls his eyes, and she takes several deep breaths to keep herself from tearing up. Instead, she moves the tray so she can lean forward and wipe some food from Jason's chin, and then prepares more fruit for his plate. The little prince gabs happily between bites about his horse at Camelot and how his nanny was so huge and powerful knights did what _she said,_ and Elizabeth cannot help but smile at his charming enthusiasm for everything. They all chat while they eat, Elizabeth gently reminding Jason not to talk with a full mouth and handing him another napkin and pouring him more water when he asks. Lancelot eats more than she can even imagine can fit inside his body, but to her concern, Tristan just picks at his food, listening to them talk in silence.

Elizabeth hands the tray to Jason, who carefully carries it to the door before he runs back, bouncing as he lands next to her. "You're very good with him," Tristan speaks up, finally, and she turns and looks at him with a bit of surprise. "Do you think so? Even though I'm- I'm not-" She blushes furiously as she stammers, and Tristan goes a bit pale, quickly looking away.

"Dad!" Jason suddenly shouts, and Elizabeth feels her heart skip a beat in her chest, her hands shooting out to grip the blanket in a nervous reflex as Meliodas enters. Jason jumps off the bed and shoots across the room, his father easily catching him, and she looks down at her hands to avoid his gaze as Jason's pealing laughter echoes through the room.

Surely- _surely_ he must know the truth by now, that she is not his queen, not the woman he had thought. All of those times he had treated her as such, all those times he had held her… Oh _no._ Had she- does he think she has been lying to him?

And suddenly, just like that she is filled with shame.

 _He- he still loves me though… doesn't he?_ She thinks back, wondering when he had started to love her. Had it been before she had been sent into the future? Did he love her before he had died in Vaizel… or was it something after, something that she had not yet done?

The boys chatter around her as her mind spins in a whirlwind of doubt and anxiety, before she chastises herself for being a coward as she finally risks the chance to look up at him. But, Meliodas is staring only at her, even as Jason clings to him like a little monkey, even as Lancelot cracks a joke by his waist, and she returns his gaze without speaking. Her hands come up to squeeze into her nightgown, clenched into fists as she watches his face quickly go to his usual unreadable expression- but not before she notices that there is something unfamiliar, something distant, in the way he was looking at her. And it feels like _before,_ before she came here; how she was certain Meliodas- while she loved him greatly- did not need her in the least when she truly compared their roles for one another.

"Everybody out," Meliodas says blandly, his eyes half lidded and comically lazy looking, and as Jason starts to whine he says sternly, with a playful swat to the behind, "Your mother needs to dress, so go. We'll meet with you guys soon enough." Then he's lifting his head to say to Tristan, "Will you take him to Merlin's and wait for us there? She's going to ask him about… well, about what you talked about this morning."

Elizabeth looks at Tristan with a frown, but he just quickly scrambles off the bed, lifting Jason and tossing the squealing boy over his shoulder. He leaves without another word, Lancelot following behind with a quick wave, and Meliodas shuts the door.

She watches as his hands press against the wood, and her throat tightens at the surge of emotions that seem to squeeze her heart, at the knowledge he suddenly _didn't want her here._

As he turns around Elizabeth quickly looks down, afraid of meeting his gaze.

She thinks about that day at the Boar's Hat, before they left for Camelot, when she had showed up in a maid's outfit and ready to run the bar by his side, as he had promised that day while fighting Hendrickson, but then... Meliodas had told her he didn't want her there any more. Even though she knew he didn't mean it, not really, it still hurt her terribly; and now… now she believes he will send her away again, and he might actually mean it. And this time- this time he really isn't wrong at all to do so.

Her fists are now so tightly wound into the blanket that she has a white knuckled grip, and she can feel just as much as she can hear each foot step he makes towards the bed.

"Elizabeth," he says, his voice the same as always, holding nothing of the emotions she is sure he wishes he could express to her. "I saw Merlin this morning. She filled me in on everything that happened on Barsil, with what we know now." Elizabeth nods, her chest heaving with emotions and in understanding, and she starts to climb out of the bed, still not looking at his face.

"I-I'm so sorry," she chokes a bit, her cheeks and ears going red hot as she ducks down. Before she can even blink he is standing next to her, his hand firm on her arm, and even though his touch is reassuring, she is terrified that it isn't real.

"I'm sorry for all of this," she blurts out again with a quick breath, her face twisting up in pain, and with as much strength as she can she tries to keep her voice level and polite. He deserves this, he deserves her strongest apology she can muster, _after all she has done._ "For.. for putting you through this, Sir Meliodas… your family through all of this." She takes a shaky breath as her words begin to crack and shake, her chin bowed as she makes her decision. "I- I will go. I can figure this out, I'm sure, and I promise that you can go back to your life-"

"Stop," he says, almost harshly, and one hand comes up grabs her chin and tilts it so she must look in his direction. She blinks back a few tears as she finally looks him in the eyes. "You're not leaving. That's not gonna happen."

"Sir Meliodas, I'm... not Queen Elizabeth. I'm not the person you married," she says pitifully. "I'm not _your…"_ she stops, her throat tightening and the world hazes over as tears blur her vision, but she can't let them fall. Because here she is _again,_ threatening and trying to replace another woman in Sir Meliodas life, that he _loves,_ trying to take her place when she had no right to. Her hands clench into fists by her sides as her entire body starts to shake, her shoulders trembling, "Sir Meliodas… I don't belong here. I don't belong _with you because-"_

Her breath catches at the end, and she silently prays for him to let go of her arm before she humiliates herself by bawling in front of him and crumbling to the floor. She is sure, if she does, she wouldn't be able to resist curling up so weakly and pathetically at his feet and _begging._

She swallows once, twice, again as her throat tightens, and this time it's not from her curse but from the overwhelming agonizing _sadness_ that threatens to drown her whole.

"That isn't an option," Meliodas frowns. "I don't care what the Great Leader said," he continues slowly, bringing his hands up to rest against her shoulders as she looks at him, her trembling worse, "You are Elizabeth, and that means you are exactly where you belong, with me." He gives her one of those smiles, his eyes going soft even as he chuckles, "Come on, do you really think I'd let you just walk out of here?"

She stares, blinking at him in silence as he looks up at her. And as another silent moment goes by Meliodas raises a brow.

"Elizabeth?"

For a second, her brain seems to stall as she processes what he said- before she is certain that she heard him correctly. "You- You don't?" she whimpers, her lower lip trembling, and he nods firmly, "Nope!" He huffs out a breath of air as he puts a hand on her hip, "You're staying right here. Sorry, but it seems you're stuck with me and the others until we figure all of this out." He gives her a bit of a cocky grin as he tips his head to the side. "Though… There's no way to really know what that dumb pig is gonna say about you."

 _"Sir Meliodas!"_ the tears that had gathered in the corner of her eyes start to fall as she launches forward to hug him, pressing her face to the side of his neck with a cracked sob. She flings her arms around his shoulders, all but falling to her knees so she can cling to him better, and he laughs again as he catches her, his arms squeezing her tight. "Are you sure?" her voice cracks as she keeps her eyes tightly shut, the blood rushing to her head as she whispers, "You still want me? Here? Even though- even though I'm not-"

"Elizabeth," he chides her, planting a kiss on the side of her head, and she can feel the curve of his smile against her skin. "It is you. It has always been you, and it always will be."

Gasping, she looks over, their eyes only inches apart and her heart does a flip in her chest as he gives her a smacking kiss on the lips. Her arms tighten around his neck as he tilts her backwards, but then she yelps against his mouth as his hands move down and squeeze her backside.

* * *

Tristan's shoulders sag as he walks through the hall, almost everyone parting for them as they pass squires and pages and maids and servants, all of them watching Jason skip ahead of them as he makes up a little weird song. "What did you bring him there for?" he talks softly to Lancelot, who walks beside him, so his brother can't hear.

"What do ya mean why?" Lancelot shrugs. "He wanted to go see her. What's the harm?"

"The harm?" Tristan says incredulously. "Do you not remember what she was like last night? Do you really think Jason should see her like that?"

"Yeah, but she was fine," he scoffs, closing his eyes as he walks with his hands behind his head. They pass by a training yard, the loud shouts and clang of metal echoing around them as Jason switched from skipping, to hopping, and it's then that Tristan can't hold it in anymore.

"It's not just that. She's not…" He tries to find a way to say it out loud, but finds it more difficult than he had thought. "She's not his mother."

"That's not true, and you know it," Lancelot snaps, his eyes flying open to glare at him with such intensity that Tristan freezes, missing a step, the unusually harsh tone sending a jolt down his back. "I mean, she might not be- well, she didn't actually give _birth_ to you- but she will one day- I mean, she will in the past? Which is her future?" Lancelot stops walking, his face scrunching up as he tries to process _that_ confusing mess, before he continues with a frown. "Well, whatever it is, saying she's not your mother is total shit," he snaps again, pointing at him, "and _you know it."_

Tristan looks down at the ground sheepishly as Jason yells in wonder in front of them, hopping up to look out a window that overlooked the side of a tower. Tristan _hates_ admitting Lancelot is right, if only because he is always so insufferable about it. So instead he says, "I understand what you're saying."

It doesn't work as a shit eating grin takes over his face, "That means I'm right, doesn't it? Aren't I? Woohoo! I'm right and you're wrong!" Tristan only shakes his head and laughs as Lancelot dances, and they resume their way across the courtyard. They take another staircase, one that spirals upwards and leads towards the west wing.

When they near Merlin's building, Lancelot speaks up, saying, "Hey, what did the king mean, that Merlin wants to ask what you talked about before?"

Tristan folds his arms. "Jason said something to me last night, about how my mother asked him to keep a secret. He told me about a dream he had, and what he described… it sounded exactly like Vaizel." Lancelot's eyebrows go up, and Tristan scowls at him. "By the way, did you have to tell him about the Boogeyman? He had a nightmare about him, and that's how he fell down the steps and hurt himself."

Lancelot looks a bit guilty but shrugs his shoulders. "Hey, he asked. Am I supposed to say _no_ to a prince?"

"You're a jackass," Tristan mutters under his breath.

They wait outside for Meliodas to arrive, watching Jason hop from one stone to the other. People walk through, going about their business, and at one point Ban arrives, walking over to them with long strides. "They not here yet?" he asks, and Tristan shakes his head. He and Lancelot start to play a game where Ban holds his hand out, and his son jumps as high as he can to try to slap it while Ban moves it out of the way at the last possible second. Tristan chuckles in spite of himself as his friend fails again and again. "You need some fairy wings," Ban teases, and then Jason comes over to join in too, jumping up and down. "You too," Ban says.

"I'm not a fairy!" Jason squeals, just as Merlin opens the door and stands with a smirk. "Are you all coming in, or just playing out here all day?"

"We're waiting for my father," Tristan answers. She tilts her chin, indicating over his shoulder, and the prince turns around to see his parents approaching. His father is grasping Elizabeth's hand tightly, his mother changed into a comfortable ankle length dress and he swallows and looks away with a twinge in his chest. It seems as though he has accepted the news, and he feels a bit chagrined for what he had said to Lancelot, and even more humbled.

"Yo! Here we all are!" Meliodas announces cheerily, and Jason quickly takes Elizabeth's other hand as they all file inside. The boy presses up against his mother's dress, suddenly quiet and shy, as he looks around the room filled with strange things. "I've never been in _here_ before," he mumbles as Elizabeth squeezes the hand she has around his. Lancelot looks nearly ready to burst, but Ban places a firm hand on his shoulder and presses him to sit in a stool, and Tristan notes that he does not let him go.

He takes his own seat in the corner of the room as Merlin pats her table, and Meliodas lifts Jason to set him on top. "Dad?" Jason whispers, and Elizabeth gives him a reassuring smile. Once again, Tristan is struck by how much she is like his real mother- and then shakes his head furiously at thinking something so stupid.

 _Focus. All you need to do is focus._ Tristan thinks with a grimace as he leans back in his chair, folding his arms tightly as the examination begins.

"Jason," Elizabeth says softly. "You remember Lady Merlin, don't you?" He nods his head, his eyes going straight to the mage while his arm links through hers, and she pats his knee. "Lady Merlin is going to ask you questions, and I want you to tell the truth." The boy looks up at her and she smiles warmly. "You aren't in any trouble, I promise."

Merlin holds a pen and makes a note in her notebook. "Your Highness, I heard you've been having some strange dreams lately. Can you tell me about them?"

Jason gives Elizabeth a quick glance, and then he nods. "I had a dream last night," he says in a small voice, and Merlin arches a brow and readies her pen. "Mom was riding a purple horse, and her dress was made of ice cream, and then we went swimming in a lake made of chocolate."

Lancelot bursts out laughing, and Ban clasps a hand over his mouth. "I see," Merlin says, clearing her throat. "Are there any others?"

"Hmmm…" Jason thinks for a moment and says, "Once I dreamt that I was reallllly small, and I lived on a flower, and-"

 _"Jason,"_ Tristan interrupts him with a huff, his voice strained. "Tell them about the dream you told me."

The boy looks over his shoulder and scowls at him. "That is a _secret,"_ he hisses, and turns back to Elizabeth. "I can't tell anyone, right, Mom?"

Elizabeth's eyes widen slightly, "Oh," she looks up at Meliodas briefly before giving him another smile. "It's alright. The secret is over. I want you to tell everyone about it, please."

Jason looks at her in confusion for a moment, and then he nods. _"Ooookay,"_ he says, "but just so you know you said not to before," and then begins recounting his dream, but this time, in much more detail.

He describes the destruction of the town, the walls of the maze fashioned out of the rubble, and the hill that had served as the arena. He talks about Elizabeth's journey through it, complete with how she was dressed, and gives a detailed picture of the sand crawlers, before telling them about how he thought their long mouths with teeth were ugly. "They were scary," he mumbles, fiddling with her shirt, and Elizabeth gives him a squeeze on his knee as he continues.

"Mom was walking, and she was yelling for Dad like this, 'Meliodas! Meliodas! Answer me!'" Jason cups his hands around his mouth and mimics her voice. "She was crying I think, and then she was running, and she fell down. Then Dad was there, and she was hugging him but…" His voice fades as he looks at his father in a bit of dismay, and continues, "You only had one arm, and the other one was chopped off and all bloody and disgusting. You were all dirty and stuff too… And then Mom picked you up and…"

He looks back at Elizabeth with eyes that are suddenly brimmed with tears. "It was really scary Mom, and you were really scared and sad."

The room is silent except for the sound of Merlin's pen scratching, and Tristan swallows thickly as he watches Elizabeth pull Jason into a tight hug, lifting him up slightly as he sniffled. "You were very brave to tell us that," she says, giving him a peck on the head before Meliodas ruffles his hair, and Tristan remembers how she used to kiss him like that too, right in that spot, and he feels incredibly confused.

"What did your mother do when you told her about this dream?" Merlin asks.

Jason looks at Elizabeth again. "Go ahead," she says softly. "I- I don't really remember. Do you?"

He nods. "You wrote it down in your notebook."

Merlin's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Did she write all your dreams down in a notebook?"

Jason shakes his head. "Only the blue ones."

"What's a blue one?" Meliodas asks.

"It's a dream that's blue," says the boy with a laugh. "Sheesh, don't you know that?"

"Right, sheesh," Ban mimics, shaking his head at Meliodas as Lancelot grumbles behind Ban's hand, which was still firmly pressed over his mouth. "You'd think you would listen."

"Don't start," Meliodas deadpans as Merlin tits her head, scribbling something else down quickly as Jason swings his legs back and forth over the side of the exam table.

"Have you had many blue dreams, Your Highness?" Merlin says.

The little prince shrugs. "Um, I think so."

"Were they all about your mother?"

"Nuh uh," Jason shakes his head. "They were about other people too, but I didn't know who they were all the time. I told Mom though and she thought it was really cool, so she said she wanted to hear all about them. If I dreamed a dream and the dream was blue, then I would tell Mom about it and she'd write it down in the notebook with the flower in it." He grins at Elizabeth. "Now do you remember? It's the one in your big desk with the candy."

Elizabeth nods, glancing back up at Meliodas. He looks at Merlin and says, "She never said anything about this?"

"No," replies the mage. "And I don't have that notebook either. We need to find it."

Meliodas nods, but Jason interrupts, "Are you going to find the Boogeyman too? He's in the blue dreams too."

"Right, you told me that last night," Tristan sits forward, speaking up and anxious to hear more. "Is he the one that was in your room?" he asks.

"Yeah," Jason explains. "I told Mom about him, and she was really scared. Then when I had the-"

They do not get to hear him finish, for at that moment the entire room erupts into a bright, deafening flash. A searing heat burns everything white as they are all flung backwards with an overpowering boom, rattling the very air.

Tristan yells as he feels his body thrown a distance, shattering battles and shelves full of supplies crashing and exploding apart around him, drowning out any sounds he could make, and he immediately calls on his powers to keep him grounded and unmoving. Only a mere fraction of a second goes by as he makes out the walls breaking apart, chunks of rock larger than himself exploding inwardly towards them and objects fly through the air, and he moves. Throwing out an arm that is now covered in black flame he instinctively reaches for his family; hearing his mother scream, he sees his father dive forward, sees Ban duck with Lancelot swinging through the air- and in the next second, he can see his brother's body torn out of his mother's grasp.

The flames shoot outward and he catches Jason, a large shadow descending inches from their heads and he curls around his brother, holding him tightly as the building collapses on top of them.

The last thing he processes is the black flames curling around him, and the loud crunching of stone.


	20. Only Time Can Heal

A/N: Dun dun dun. Chapter twenty is actually here, the wait is over folks, everyone come out of your bomb shelters. This is completely my fault, I got lost you see. I was trying to find a Sonic fast food restaurant, but somehow along the way I got lost in an Law and Order SVU for a week and a half. I now know that supreme court trials can be thrown out rather easily without compelling evidence and nasty little details.

BettyBest2: We love how much you love those sweet moments. And we also love that you like how we keep throwing everything and the kitchen sink at our lovely characters. We'll keep up the good work.

Sailinia: Thank you love! Please, keep reading!

Vhosek: Are you a ballet dancer because you are up there a lot my love. Hehehe, my love, we are a very mysterious bunch of writers. Not even we know what will happen next, which can be very confusing when we look down to see another chapter has written itself again. I have had to exorcise my computer three times now.

peacerockgirl123: Oh yeeeeesss. Have you read the rest of the story my love? Suffering is my maiden name.

hiyomi: Thank you. We are happy that you are happy my lovely dear. And we hope you like it!

Cerulean Grace: Oh dear. You like Jason? This makes me want to do something downright _awful_ , it's a good thing Lickitysplit is here to be the voice of reason. Or… is she? _**thunder and lightning flashes**_

Kayla. panek: To tell you the truth we are just as curious to see it as well. When we read your review we screamed and cackled like two insane people, we love hearing from you, and we are so happy you've picked up on something. We aren't gonna say what, that would be cheating though.

Chapter twenty: Only Time Can Heal

* * *

As soon as the explosion goes off with an enormous _bang_ , Meliodas knows the attack is bigger than he first anticipated. He's darting to the side to grab Elizabeth, who has Jason, as he jumps. The bright flash of light rockets the very air, shaking the ground with a searing heat that makes him duck down, his clothes whipping around while the edges scorched, and he easily dodges the larger chunks of castle wall while he clutches his wife close against him. He sees in vivid detail the pattern of the falling bricks, stones and interior of the castle, the ceiling dropping down as the furniture roars through the air and over them- before he loses all sight as a dense black smoke covers them all. Twisting his torso around in a fraction of a second, he easily lands outside of the blast range, bursting through the black cloud to skid a few feet and crouch down on the ground and over Elizabeth. He turns his back to the heat of the explosion as he all but lays on top of them, shielding her from the debris that still flies through the smoke dense air.

He can feel small rocks whizzing through the sky and bouncing off his back, and when the noise and the dusts settles, a plume of dark smoke rises up into the sky, and he looks down to see if she is injured-

 _No. No no no,_ Meliodas eyes go wide in shock, as he sees that _Jason is gone._

She hacking and coughing, a deep cut on her head that is dripping with blood over her eyes and down her cheeks and chin. He is looking her over again and again, making sure she has all her fingers and both of her feet, but before he can say anything she is screaming for Jason, trying to jump out off his arms and back towards the destroyed north side of the castle as she cries hysterically, "Meliodas! Jason is in there! I couldn't hold onto him! I- I couldn't!"

The air is still choked with dirt and dust, and he looks around, setting her down on her feet but keeping her from running off, and where Merlin's building once stood is now a pile of smoking rubble. The stone was still rolling down from the unsteady smoking and burning mass. "Ban!" he shouts, grinding his teeth, "Damn it!" It's pandemonium, fires sprouting up as small chunks of the building still fall; and there are people everywhere, some trying to help and running toward the destruction, everyone shouting and yelling and screaming as Knights throwing out orders and already try to move rubble, as others lay on the ground or under stone unmoving, some stumbling to their feet or calling desperately for help, or others simply screaming in agony.

Merlin herself is hauling Ban to his feet, one of his arms missing as they stumble by a large slab of stone. "Lancelot!" he shouts, looking around as she tries to steady him. "I was holding onto him- where is he? I ain't losing that kid!" he roars, looking down and catching sight of his missing limb, and his eyes promise pain as he stumbles more into the disaster zone. His leg, which had been dangling at an awkward angle under him begins to mend itself. " _Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck_ Lancelot!"

"Can you stand?" Meliodas says through gritted teeth, glaring into the rubble as he steadies Elizabeth. Before she can answer he's already moving, yelling over his shoulder as he darts forward. "Stay here!" he orders her, and then he is running back into the destruction, using his strength to start ripping the pile of stone apart the mere moment his hand lands on the splintered wood and rock and whatever else he finds.

There is more shouting now, from everywhere, and he hears someone say that the fire is spreading further into the building. A woman is screaming in agony somewhere further in, a man moaning softly in his final death throes, but he cannot concern himself with that now; all he can think about are his sons, still inside of the collapsed castle.

Jason and Tristan, Jason and Tristan, _Jason and Tristan._

He is yanking bigger and bigger pieces of debris away, throwing them over his head and away to crash somewhere unnoticed, and he pays no attention to any people who have to squawk and dive out of his way. He hears Ban still howling in the background, Merlin giving out orders, and he quickly finds a person while in his search, then another, over and over pulling people he wasn't looking for out and into the waiting arms of someone else. Ban joins him in tearing apart the remains, blood still squirting out of his stump and freaking out anyone who noticed. "Come on! _Come on!"_ He yells, and he's cursing what Meliodas wishes he could. The tight lid he has on his emotions are coming undone, and he can feel his hearts start to race, how his skin crawls and his jaw clench, and as they create a hole burrowing further in, pulling out more than a dozen men and women it is finally big enough for him to squeeze into.

Meliodas crawls inside as he hears the sound of Diane shouting, finally arriving with King, as they pull an entire wall away, still intact but threatening to collapse on whoever is still under the rubble. Meliodas uses his fists and his feet to break apart the structure from the inside, while Ban uses his _Snatch_ ability to grab the loosened chunks and _throw_ them further out into the field.

"I see them!" Ban shouts, and Meliodas busts through the top of the pile, unconcerned with the rock and sharp pieces flying in every direction. His shirt catches on something as he scrambles up the side of the pile, ripping his sleeve off as he makes his way towards something reflecting in the sunlight.

Ban picks up a wooden beam twice his width and tosses it. It's Arondight, in shield form, peeking through dirt and Meliodas and Ban start pulling the stone up, Knights rushing forward to help the king as they toss more and more away. The shield might have been peeking through the stone, but it wasn't giving a single inch. It takes a group of ten men and the sins to help until they finally found an edge, swiping rocks and dirt from it desperately as they dug and dug and _dug._

" _Fuuuuuck,"_ Ban snarls as the shield still resists them, even as his muscles in his arms bulge, as he instinctively pulls strength from around them as he swears so loudly people outside the rubble can hear him. Even Meliodas has to use his magic as Arondight's metal groans against their combined effort. But it doesn't take much longer for them to uncover a big enough opening, and both men reach in at the same time and pull out a limp, but still conscious Lancelot.

"Is he okay!?" King is floating above them, looking half crazed with anger and worry, as he uses his Guardian Bear form of his spear to help, pulling large beams of wood away alongside Daine. He shouts at them again as Ban flops backwards, going silent with Meliodas next to him, and Ban wipes a thick layer of dirt from a limp Lancelot's face. "Is he alright?" Meliodas hisses, "Ban?"

Lancelot is clutching one hand into a fist to keep his shield active, and in his other is around Ban's arm. "I- I have this-" he whispers, dazedly, as his father holds of him for a minute, leaning over his son as he cradles his small form to his chest. Ban takes note of his legs that are turning black, his ankles mutilated, and he can't stop his face from twisting up as Lancelot peers up at him. "You- you didn't let go… Of me…. Dad," Lancelot slurs, his eyes opening and closing as he clings to his father's arm.

Ban huffs through a clenched jaw, prying his arm from his son's grasp and reattaching it with ease, before hefting Lancelot up into a tight embrace. He jumps to the ground with Lancelot securely under his arm, King seemingly torn between following and helping, before he squeezes his eyes shut and turns back towards the castle, his arm out to give his spear more orders. Meliodas watches him go- his fist clenched tight as he stares at Lancelot's bloody figure, before he turns away.

Ban meets Elizabeth halfway as she bolts towards them, a cry of his Lancelot's name on her lips, and as he leaves the boy with her as they sink to the ground, her body already glowing. He jumps back up to the top, where Meliodas is pulling away more of the stone. He is in a deep hole of his own making, his eyes bleeding into a deeper color, his forehead twisting black as he rips more and more away, tossing it behind his head.

Whoever did this. Whoever did this to his sons, to _Tristan,_ to _Jason…._

His fingers claw the ground, and crack and rip metal and stone. But when his hand finally reaches something, _finally_ grabs a hold a couple more feet down, reaching past another few inches of rock, that is when he feels a small hand.

Grabbing it, he pulls as he sucks in a deep breath, his hearts thudding so painfully he _can't hear anything else, can't see anything else_ as Jason comes out by the arm- his head held limp to the side and his eyes closed. He is seemingly bleached from head to toe; his body and hair and clothes the color gray from all of the rubble. He's is unconscious, blood in his hair and his breathing so shallow that Meliodas quickly brings a hand to his mouth, to make sure he actually is still breathing.

He lets out breath he didn't know he was holding he feels air puff against his hand, before he cradles his son easily with one arm, patting him over and over on the back for signs of life as Jason's head lays limp over his shoulder. Meliodas other hand reaches inside again, digging deep up to his elbow and another hand grabs hold, this grip still strong, and he is pulling as Ban leans in and helps. Together they haul out Tristan, who is bleeding and filthy but seems, incredibly, otherwise unharmed as he hacks and coughs. " _D- da-"_ He gasps for air desperately as Meliodas keeps a hand tight on his arm.

They climb back out and down the rubble as Tristan is pulled up and out, mostly held up by Ban as he coughs and coughs, and they work their way past screaming servants and running Knights, the fire and smoke almost suffocating. And it seems the _entire_ Holy Knights of Camelot present to help in the aftermath. When they finally make their way through the chaos to where Elizabeth is helping Lancelot, she is still in the same spot on the ground. One arm is around his shoulders as she partly lays Lancelot in her lap, her other hand held up above his abdomen, and Tristan flops down on the ground beside them, peering upwards.

Ban is still cursing, making up new and improved slurs as the bright light flashes, and Meliodas watching closely as Elizabeth kneels on the ground, her head bowed and completely focused as his breathing slowly returns to normal. Lancelot's crushed legs fade back to health color as his ankle repair itself, and when he opens his eyes again, looking up, Meliodas can see the dazed look is gone.

"Tristan!" he shouts, yanking himself up and jumping to his feet, "What the fuck was _that-_!" but before he can do anything Ban has him, lifting him into a tight hug. " _Urck,"_ Lancelot wheezes out whatever air he has in his chest as Ban steps away from their family, looking pissed off but relieved as he turns Lancelot's head this way or that, so he can check for injuries himself as Lancelot wiggles.

Meliodas cautiously kneels next to Elizabeth, holding out Jason towards her, and she places her hands on his head. She begins to glow, her healing power surging forward, and it's not even a minute before Jason opens his eyes. He is completely still, however, and doesn't speak, and as Elizabeth caresses his cheek, she says in a choked voice, "I'm so sorry- I tried to hold onto him, onto Jason, I had- but I- But the blast-"

"It wasn't your fault," Meliodas answers, and he hands over the boy into her arms. He watches with a heavy heart as she starts to cry, hugging his body close, and it scares him that Jason does not respond with a hug in kind. But he _can't stay,_ he has to leaves his care to Elizabeth as he stands and turns to look at Tristan.

Incredibly, his own wounds are healing, and Meliodas can see the demon mark that had sprouted over his brow already fading as the last of his injuries hiss away. His son's eyes are glued to his brother however, watching stoically as Elizabeth rocks him, and Meliodas nearly shouts at him, "Tristan!" He puts a hand on his shoulder, shaking him roughly, and finally the prince snaps out of his daze and meets his father's concerned stare.

Meliodas pulls him into a hug, heaving one huge breath after another, and Tristan's arms go tentatively around him before clinging to his father like a lifeline. "Are you _hurt?"_ Meliodas whispers harshly and Tristan leans more against him, his face thumping against his shoulder.

"No," Tristan says, his voice shaking. "Dad, I- I tried to save Jason, I... I swear."

"You did," Meliodas says, pulling him away and giving his shoulders a squeeze. "You saved his life," he assures him again, and Tristan's entire body sags in relief.

Just then Arthur runs towards them, ordering his knights in every direction, and covered in dirt, clearly not just standing around in the effort to help. The squadrons of Knights run to the wounded, pulling people out of the path of destruction, as fires burn around the rubble and the cloud of dark black smoke rises above the castle, seen by the entire kingdom. Men carry buckets to douse the flames, and others help one another rescue those who were trapped by the wreckage. It isn't long before the courtyard they are standing in is occupied by moaning and crying, bloody bodies, servants and maids and knights alike; and the moment another person is placed down, they are running back to get more.

"Meliodas!" he shouts, sweat from the heat of the flames making him back away from the largest fires. He raises an arm as he stares in horror at the destruction, at the injuries of his people. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Meliodas looks back at the castle as he shrugs, schooling his features even as his voice continues to grind out, "There was an explosion at Merlin's. We must have been in the middle of it." He looks around for a moment before says with a frown, "Where is she anyway?"

"The entire side of the castle has collapsed," Arthur yells over the panic so they can still hear him, the air already smelling of copper and burning wood. "She's there helping. Will you come? There are many that need to be rescued!" Then he turns to Elizabeth, who is still rocking Jason on the ground. "Your Grace," he says gently, coming closer to put a hand on her shoulder. "There… there are many wounded who need help."

"I don't know if-" Meliodas begins, but Elizabeth cuts him off, her right eye appearing unhidden as she shakes her head, before she glances around, "Yes. Yes, I will come." She stands as her eye glows,her face determined, pulling the boy up against her shoulder and tucking his head under her chin, and looks over at Meliodas. "I can do this. I have to."

Meliodas nods, a serious expression takes over as Arthur leads her away while still carrying Jason, before he turns back to Tristan. "Are you ready? Or do you need a minute?"

"Ready?" Tristan blinks and looks up at his father. "Ready for what?"

"To do your duty," he answers, as he holds out his hand. "You are a Holy Knight, and you serve the innocent. These people need help."

Tristan sucks in a deep breath before he nods, clasping hands with his as he is pulled to his feet, and follows him back into the rubble.

* * *

Hours later, the sun is setting while Elizabeth tiredly makes her way towards Jason's bedroom. One of the guards that had been assigned to them, a Holy Knight named Sir Bernadad, had offered to carry the boy for her, and she was truly grateful for the help as each step she takes becomes heavier than the last.

Healing so many people, it was _exhausting._ It was like one she never felt before, her brow covered in a layer of sweat as her limbs shake. And as they make their way to the room on the other opposite side of the castle, she silently blinks back her dizzy spells.

To her relief, Jason's nanny is there. The hem of her long skirt stained gray with dust, her hair slightly askew and her hands fidget by her bosom, but when the giant woman sees them she is quick to help Elizabeth and their guard. They work together to wash Jason in an already drawn bath and dress him for bed, and the nanny grabs his stuffed toy off the dresser before tucking him in, as Elizabeth sits and slumps against the bed next to him, thankful of how she gives her a pat on her shoulder. "Do you want me to bring some food or…?" the nanny asks softly, but Elizabeth just shakes her head. "I think… I think he just needs rest," she says softly as she sweeps his hair back.

The nanny nods sadly, standing by the bed for a moment, before she bows and lets herself quietly out the door, passing by the Knight with pointed finger. "Keep the majesties in bed," she murmurs, and he nods as she closes the door softly behind her.

Jason is curled up on the bed, clutching the stuffed green pig close, snug under his chin, and his eyes are open as he stares off at nothing. Elizabeth cautiously kneels next to him, gently stroking his hair. "Do you want something, Jason?" she whispers.

The boy does not answer. He hasn't spoken, in fact, since he woke up after the blast.

She had healed him right away, and once he seemed fine she had turned her attention to the other men and women who had been hurt in the blast. The main courtyard had been transformed into a makeshift hospital, and Elizabeth went from one person to another, healing each one. She wanted to send him away, not wanting him to see the blood and the gore and hear the cries of the people hurt. But Jason clung to her the entire time, and she would shift him from her arm or to her leg as necessary, keeping him facing away as he tucked his forehead into her chest or neck. But if anyone had tried to take him away from her, even for a moment, he would claw into her until she ordered them to stop.

He was nearly asleep in her arms when the last were brought in, the faces of the people and their different wounds all meshing together in her head. It is so overwhelming the calls for her help, the crying out as she healed them, all blur together, and she had been so very glad to be able to take him back to his room for some rest. Now, as she brushes his hair back from his brow again and again, twirling his bangs in her fingers... she is worried about the silent boy.

She is sure she healed him. She used everything she _had…_ could she- could she have missed something?

"We're safe now," she says quietly, wishing she knew just how to reassure him as he lay still on his side. Elizabeth swallows, trying to keep herself from breaking into tears when he doesn't react to her brushing the back of her fingers across his cheek, or even tucking the blankets in tighter. She is just so _exhausted-_ she had never healed that much in such a short time, never had to focus her powers that she had _failed_ to overcome in her trial with the Druids, and now? Now she feels so very out-of-place all of a sudden, and is sure that if Jason's _real_ mother was there-

Elizabeth closes her eyes, shaking her head.

Those thoughts are dangerous, and she will not risk losing herself to them again. Not here. _Not with him._ She strokes his cheek a final time and goes to stand, but Jason's hand shoots out and grabs her arm, holding tightly. She jerks, freezing in place before turning back around. "Do you…" Elizabeth looks down, his hand absolutely tight, not sure of what to do. "Do you want me to stay?"

He tugs again, so Elizabeth slips gently into the bed, cuddling up to him. Jason moves aside to let her in, and then climbs up against her, wrapping his arms around her with his head against her shoulder, just like he had that morning. She cradles him close, feeling his hands clench every once in awhile into her soiled dress, or how he would press his face over and over into her, and she softly reassures him while rubbing his back. She even tries humming softly, a tune she heard as a child as she twirls his hair in her fingers, and Elizabeth cannot remember if her mother, the queen, ever held her this way, or even if any of the nannies that had taken care of her and her sisters had comforted her like this. But this feels right, and she is surprised to find her own nerves begin to calm even as Jason relaxes against her.

She glances down to finally see his eyes close, his stranglehold on his toy relaxing.

A short time later, the door creaks opens and she turns her head to look. Meliodas walks in, absolutely filthy, followed by a completely exhausted looking Tristan and Elizabeth slips the now-sleeping boy from around her frame. She pulls the blanket over him before hurrying across the room, and without any hesitation she throws her arms around Tristan and pulls him into a tight hug. One hand goes to the back of his head, pressing his cheek against hers as she squeezes her arms as much as she can. Tristan hugs her back as she briefly assesses him, finding no injuries, and her eyes close in relief as she gives him another squeeze. She holds him for a moment longer before finally relaxing her grip. "Are you okay?" she whispers fiercely, her hand going to his cheek as she searches his face.

"I'm fine, considering." he says quietly, but she can hear the strain in his voice. "How is Jason?"

"I don't know," she admits with a sigh. "At least he is sleeping now."

Tristan nods, saying, "I'll stay with him." and Elizabeth starts to protest before he shakes his head. "It will make me feel better, honestly."

Elizabeth nods, finally letting him go enough to step back and her eyes go to Meliodas, who has been silent this entire time, standing next to them, and he gives her a smile. "Come on," he says, holding out a hand. "You look as tired as I feel."

Feeling a bit torn, Elizabeth looks back at the bed once more before taking his hand and allows him to lead her from the room, and down the hallway towards their own. He doesn't comment on her stumble, her feet like lead, and when they reach the bedroom, Meliodas keeps his hand in hers as he asks, "So, what do we need? Do you want some food? A bath? Sleep?" He tries to crack another smile as he lists them off, but she can see that his eyes are tired. "Maybe I should just bring the bed into the bath?" She smiles at his corny joke, and he grins.

"A bath would be lovely," Elizabeth sighs, shifting on her aching feet, feeling the grime covering her skin as Meliodas nods,and he is again pulling her into the bathroom as he keeps a hand on her hip.

He presses her to sit in a chair before the vanity as he busies himself running hot water and pulling towels from a closet, and she is a bit startled by how much energy he still has as he starts to whistle a small tune, gathering up everything she'll need. With a smile, Elizabeth turns around and looks in the mirror.

She had washed briefly in a small basin with a washcloth, when she had returned to the castle, but her hair is still covered in dust and her clothes are ruined. The cut on her forehead had stopped bleeding, healed mostly- but, well, there is still a layer of blood caked on the side of her face and a fine thin line by her hairline. She hadn't focused on healing herself as much as everyone else, and as she leans forward to look more closely, her eyes slide down her features, checking for any other injuries, when she notices something strange.

 _It's- it's gone!_ She pokes her skin, realizing the marks on her shoulder have vanished. There had been two little holes from the poisonous snake in Vaizel, and she had noticed them days ago after she had woken up in the castle twenty-five years later. They hadn't ever disappeared, not once, the holes still there every time she checked, the little marks scarring over reminding her every time she had looked in the mirror that something was wrong, that she had been right, and now she understands that they were there because for her, for her body, the bite had happened less than two weeks ago.

But now… now- now there is no trace of them whatsoever.

Before she can give it much thought, Meliodas says behind her, "There you are, all set." She turns around to see him looking at her with a bit of concern. "Hey? Are you alright?"

"Yes, it's just-" Elizabeth's hand goes to her skin of her shoulder, but then she shakes her head. "It's- it's nothing," she murmurs as she drops her hand, and she walks over to the steaming tub, sighing deeply. She can already feel herself relaxing just looking at it. "This looks wonderful, thank you, Sir Meliodas."

"No problem," Meliodas nods, grinning. "I guess I'll leave you to it then." He gives her another adoring smile and turns to go, when, suddenly, Elizabeth is struck with the very strong, undeniable feeling that she does not _want_ him to leave.

"Sir Meliodas!" She jumps at how loud her voice is, and he pauses by the door to look over his shoulder at her, frowing. There is a heavy silence between them as Elizabeth thinks about the way he kissed her when she found her wedding dress… the easy way he now would kiss her or hold her hand or slip an arm around her in support, and how he had said he loved her without a thought. Her heart beats a bit faster as she pictures the night _she_ had kissed _him_ , the night he had rescued them from Vaizel, and how he had responded when she pressed against him, unable to even think in that moment except how much she needed to be close.

And then her mind switches to this morning, when he had told her- when he told her that he wanted her to stay, and that she was _his_.

"Sir Meliodas," she says again, softer this time. It is most remarkable to Elizabeth how, at this moment, everything is clear. These memories are as real as they feel; and this is not like the other times when her memories had led her down a spiral of confusion and turmoil, but now she can trust herself to believe how she is feeling in this moment.

"You don't have to go," she says, barely a whisper, and Meliodas' eyes widen just slightly. "You want me to stay?" He tilts his head as he looks her over, glancing at her fidgeting hands, and she takes a slow breath... before stepping towards him.

When she's close enough she cups his face in her hands, as they stand only inches apart. Her fingers gently race down his jaw as her eyes dip down, to glance at his lips as her body eases forward, and then she presses her mouth against his.

Her heart is pounding loudly, thundering in her ears as his hand comes to the back of her neck, holding her hair tightly as he angles her head to deepen their kiss. The feel of his body pressed snug to hers sends sparks to burst down her back, and the way his fingers rub against her scalp is incredibly intimate. They stay like this for a long moment, and then Elizabeth pulls back slightly to whisper, "Please, stay."

"Are you ready?" It must be her imagination, or maybe the lighting, but she is _sure_ that he is blushing slightly as he brings a finger up to scratch his cheek, "Elizabeth. You sure?" She swallows heavily and nods, and- with her entire face all but smoking with a burn- she kisses him again.

The kiss is chaste, and slow, and Elizabeth strokes her thumbs over his cheeks as he leans forward, his head tilting to the side to press into her hand, his own moving to grip her lightly by the hip. His other hand squeezes her tight before moving to take a handful of her rear, and an incoherent moan leaves her lips. After another heavenly moment she breaks the kiss; then, before she can loses her nerve she steps back and turns around, sweeping her hair to the side and over her shoulder to reveal the buttons on the back of her dress.

She bites her lip as he step up behind her, and silently he unbuttons each one until her dress is open to the waist. Elizabeth slips her arms out of the sleeves with the blush moving down her neck and to her shoulders, and then she pushes the dress and her slip down, bunched around her hips, and it finally falls down her legs until her clothes pool on the floor.

Elizabeth can't help her arms that cross to cover herself, she- she hadn't done anything like this before- so she quickly climbs into the tub, sighing in relief as the hot water hits her aching muscles. She sits forward in the center of the tub, her knees pulled up, and rests her cheek against her knees, sighing loudly at the heat that drains into her body, not realizing until now how scared she had been for herself and their little family.

 _Not your family_ , she thinks, and Elizabeth squeezes her eyes shut, trying to block it out.

But then the water is splashing, and she can feel Meliodas climbing in behind her as she sits up straight. Her back stiffens a bit, and she is suddenly nervous and unsure, her feet fidgeting under the water; but then his hands are rubbing her back, stroking the muscles with rough and calloused hands, and there is a small towel already foamed up with suds gently caressing her arms and shoulders. She breathes a sigh of relief as she decides to just allow herself this moment.

Just this moment. Can she just feel safe? It feels… amazing as he runs some water over her hair, tiling her head back.

A layer of gray ash and dirt falls away with the water, her eyes closing as all the tumultuous emotions that had raged inside her mind seem to be washed away too. She feels a light kiss against her shoulder, stretching her legs back down to lean back, and she is sinking under the water until she is barely above it.

Her limbs feel… they feel absolutely heavy, but oh so lovely. Her eyes feel like they should never open again, so relaxed, as a quiet noises leave her lips, and his hands leave her skin for a moment before then returning to her head as he gently begins to shampoo her hair. Elizabeth sighs, tilting her chin up, and the fingers rubbing against her scalp feel absolutely heavenly. He combs his fingers through her long hair, squeezing the soap from her head to the ends, and when he is finished she dips her head under the water to rinse.

When she emerges he pulls her gently backwards by the arms, until she is settled against him- and she may be too tired, too relaxed, but cannot even think about fighting it. Instead, she can feel his chest at her back, his broad shoulders and tone muscles snug to her, his legs against hers… and her chest constricts when she realizes they are skin to skin. Meliodas uses the soap to wash her gently, smoothing over the streaks of dust on her arms and massaging her shoulders before dipping below the water to smooth over her chest. Her breath catches a bit as her head leans back against his shoulder, and he slowly moves his hands up and down her body, her head swimming from the contact and from the heat of the bath.

Elizabeth feels his lips against her neck, giving her little pecks that make her heart flutter. His hands and his mouth remain careful, almost modest despite their closeness in the bath, and she is grateful for the slow pace even as she turns her face to the side to kiss him again. A fierce groan erupts from his mouth and his arms go around her waist, pulling her tightly against him, and this time Elizabeth lets him move his mouth over hers in a way that leaves her head spinning.

She pulls back finally, pressing their foreheads together breathless, and shifts her body so that now they are facing one another. Meliodas makes a little noise as she goes up on her knees, grinning up at her as he takes her by the hips, his eyes trailing across her body with a burning gaze and she smiles back down at him. Elizabeth leans forward to reach behind his head, and Meliodas presses his face against her chest, sighing and making her shiver at the feeling of his cool breath on her skin. Taking the soap this time she shampoos him in turn, a little laugh leaving her as presses her fingers in, enjoying the feel of his hair against her hands, and giggling as he tilts his head to give little kisses along the tops of her breasts. Her face is absolutely inflamed, she knows, and the idea that they are married and had probably done this a hundred times before wars inside her with the knowledge that _she_ has never experienced such an intimate moment.

She was so relaxed, so warm, and so _exhausted_ that the world felt sluggish. "Let's get to bed," he murmurs, once they are both clean, and Meliodas gives her a final peck on the lips as her half lidded eyes peer up at him. Soon he is climbing out of the water, and Elizabeth blushes and looks away as he slips into shorts and grabs a towel. He holds it out for her as she climbs out after, letting him wrap it around her as she yawns, and then he picks up another, rubbing it over his hair as he walks back into the bedroom.

Elizabeth slips on a thin gown and dries her own hair, running her fingers to comb it before checking her reflection. Her eyes flicker to her blemish-free shoulder for a brief moment, before another yawn breaks her focus and then she walks into the bedroom, pulling back the covers in their usual routine and climbing in tiredly with him. Meliodas rolls over and wraps his arms around her, his head on her shoulder as they hold each other close.

They are both quiet, but despite how exhausted Elizabeth feels, her eyes sliding closed, now her mind is wide awake. She _wants_ this… wants to be his wife and a mother and queen… and now that she knows it is not hers to have, the wanting is almost _desperate_. Gently she brushes some of his hair between her fingers and his chest expands in a deep sigh. She can feel hot tears threatening as she concentrates on keeping her breathing steady, and she takes a shaky breath as she starts to actually feel angry.

"I love you," Meliodas murmurs sleepily, pulling her out of the bitter feelings cycling in a loop in her mind.

She swallows, taking a moment as she realizes this is also something she hasn't done before, and she is desperate to catch up on this as well.

"I love you too," she whispers, closing her eyes. They do not speak again, and he falls asleep quickly, as she feels Meliodas going limp against her. Elizabeth stays awake just a bit longer, just long enough to think of how she wishes to keep this forever.


	21. Never Quite Enough

A/N: It's lickitysplit again, and I'm going to keep this short and sweet since we've jammed a lot into this one. Thank you to everyone who has kept up with us and this story. I can't believe we've written this much, and that we've had so much support from all of you. I must once again express my deepest love and gratitude to the wonderful woundedowl for bringing me along this ride.

BettyBest2: We feel that fluff is best served after a nice appetizer of gruesomeness. I love how very deeply you are thinking about this story!

Cerulean Grace: Something told me you would have an incredibly strong reaction to chapter twenty, and I am so happy to have been right. Thirty chapters of domestic Melizabeth bathing? Sounds like a sequel to me!

Whitangel: Who attacked? What fun would it be to tell you that?

Sassykitten1701: Well, since you asked, here is a nice big batch of answers for you. (Followed immediately by more questions, ha ha.)

Hiyomi: I'm glad that you're glad and you enjoyed the ending.

CaptainTwiggy0918: Interesting theory you have about the marks. Their disappearance will be explained in due time. I'm glad that you had a nice big helping of yummy fluff. Please, have some seconds.

MarianaBuBuLuBu: Gracias tanto para el examen! Siempre es bueno saber de usted. ¿Qué pasará con Elizabeth, siempre y cuando regresa a su tiempo real es la pregunta más importante de todos!

Chapter twenty-one: Never Quite Enough

* * *

Elizabeth stands in the smaller courtyard of Arthur's castle, a shiver going down her spine in the early morning chill. The cold is coming in fast, the seasonal change in full swing now as the trees go bare, the ground iced; and she huffs out clouds of white smoke into her hands as she looks over the land. The small group is returning to Lioness immediately, and despite the castle still in massive disarray from yesterday's attack, Meliodas and Merlin are anxious to get back as soon as possible. Pulling her shawl around her shoulders tightly, she turns to sees Tristan and Lancelot enter, Ban's hand still firmly planted on his son's shoulder as they walk. He looks better than the last time she saw him, the lazy demeanor returning to the Sin of Greed, but… he is clearly still attached, keeping close. Lancelot, he looks somber, and her heart sinks as she sees Tristan is carrying Jason, a large pack slung over one shoulder, and his younger brother on his other, clinging to his neck.

"Yo, queenie," Ban quips as she approaches them quietly, her hands up to her chest, hoping that the youngest is simply sleeping. But she sighs when she sees his eyes are open wide, his expression still lined with anxiety as his eyes flicker around. "Hey," she says softly, and she can see him bite down on his lower lip, hard. "Good morning." She brushes her fingers softly through his hair, fixing his jacket collar, and Jason suddenly reaches out for her. Elizabeth quickly takes him as his body lunges forward, Tristan huffing, and then Jason's arms are tight around her neck as she holds him close. She pats his back repeatedly as his legs wrap around her upper torso, clinging tight.

Her eyes look over to Tristan and he gives her a grim look. "He still hasn't said anything. Not a word," he says, clearly anxious by his silence as well. Elizabeth nods, patting the boy on the back. "That's okay," she answers cheerfully. "Jason will talk when he's ready, right?" She tilts her head back with a smile, trying to catch his eye.

"The kid's gonna be fine," Ban leans back, balancing on his heels as Jason doesn't give any indication that he heard her, so she tries to give Tristan a reassuring smile. She leans her cheek on Jason's hair as Tristan swallows, folding his arms, before he turns away with a worried look. All the while as Lancelot yawns loudly, scratching his head as Ban does the same, both of them mimicking each other perfectly.

A few feet away, Meliodas stands with Merlin and Arthur in a quiet but intense conversation. They have a platoon of knights standing by their side, clearly awaiting orders. "Stay here," Ban says, finally letting go of Lancelot before walking over to join them, and he calls out a loud, "Yo, Capt'n!" with a wave, catching their attention. Elizabeth can't help but feel torn as she watches their discussion; it was strange, not to be apart of it like she had been in the Boar's Hat. But eventually Meliodas walks quickly over to them. "Arthur wants us to stay, but we need to get back to find that journal. And we don't know if it's safe here." His eyes flicker over the three boys before continuing, his hands in his pockets, "King and Diane will stay with him for the time being. They could use the extra man power until they know for sure what happened."

"Alright," Elizabeth nods. "If you think that is best," she says softly, as she squeezes Jason close. And he gives her a firm nod, a closed fist on his hip.

"What about me?" Lancelot pipes up, not even pretending he wasn't eavesdropping.

"You're going back too," Ban calls over, pointing at him. "You know how your mother will be when she finds out about all this."

"What will Elaine do?" Elizabeth whispers to Meliodas as Lancelot pales dramatically, clinging to Tristan's hip like a life-line, but before he can answer Merlin calls over, "Are we ready?" Meliodas looks at her for a moment, smiling grimly, "Trust me," and he actually looks worried. "You won't miss Elaine." She nods and feels his hand firm on her waist just before the world slips, and she is grateful for the steadying grip that keeps her from stumbling when they appear in Lioness moments later.

"Are you alright?" Meliodas asks her immediately and Elizabeth nods, shaking off the overwhelming magic. He tilts his head to look at Jason, putting a hand up to ruffle his hair. "You guys did great," he says brightly, and she holds her breath as he examines the boy, the king's expression unreadable while his jaw is set with tension. "Jason? What'cha think we should we do now? Wanna go get something to eat?" he says quietly, but his son does not move or say a word. The only way Elizabeth can even tell that he is awake is the feel of his small hands occasionally clenching against her shoulders.

Meliodas' gaze meets hers again, and she cannot stand the pain that she sees tinge the edges of his eyes. "Why don't you take him back to his room?" Meliodas says evenly. "I'm going to send for the doctor. I'll come and find you when we get the journal."

"A doctor?" Elizabeth slowly nods as he turns to look over his shoulder, and Elizabeth shift the boy in her grasp. Meliodas… he was right. What if- what if she _had_ missed something while healing him? She was sick enough that she feared it could be a real possibility. "Tristan," Meliodas calls over to the boys, Lancelot desperately whispering to him in some sort of plea. "Will you take your mother to Jason's room? And wait with them there."

Elizabeth's breath catches a bit at that- _his mother_ \- but it is quickly brushed aside as Tristan nods in agreement, and Lancelot all but turns to stone.

"You're- you're leaving me _alone?_ To _explain all of this?!"_ he squeaks, his face ashen pale. And all of a sudden he's flinging himself at Tristan's legs, curling his entire body around one of them. "No! Let me go with Tristan!"

She glances down in amusement as Tristan tries to frantically shake the smaller guy off, his hair sticking up in every direction as he wrestles with a sobbing Lancelot, until Ban grabs him by the shirt and yanks him off- throwing his son over a shoulder and walks away while whistling. All the while Lancelot is still screaming a continuous strings of "No! Come on Pop, please! We can escape together!" until the sound fades away down a castle corridor.

Tristan simply steps towards them, huffing as he swipes back his tousled hair, and Meliodas turns and walks in another direction with Merlin. "I can take him for you," Tristan offers her as he holds out his arm, as they start in their own direction, but Jason's arms tighten around her so desperately that despite the ache starting in her arms, her cheeks becoming flushed as he starts to strangle her, she shakes her head. She follows him into the castle as Tristan sighs, giving his little brother one more pained look before continuing onwards.

Jason's room is warm and bright, with a chest full of toys and cabinets full of books, and Elizabeth can't help but smile as she sweeps her eyes around as she enters. She laughs when she sees his bed sheets, the large blue blanket on top having a funny smiley-tooth dragon sown into it, and as she goes to the bed and sits, situating Jason on her lap, Tristan goes to the window. Looking outside with his arms folded, Elizabeth notices for the first time he has a sword strapped around his waist.

The room is silent for a long while, Elizabeth cradling Jason against her chest as she rocks him just a bit, when she suddenly feels him shift in her lap unexpectedly, a little sound starting under the bed. When she looks down, she sees him reaching for something. "Jason?" she says curiously, drawing Tristan's attention as the boy leans down by her feet, quickly snatching something up. "What is it?" She asks.

She grips him by the waist as he tilts forward so he does not fall, and when he straightens up… he is pulling the largest gray cat she had ever seen in her life onto his lap. She looks at it in surprise, its weight making its long thin stubby legs stick out, as its long frizzy tail thumps against the bed; and the obese cat looks back at her with the most bored, laziest expression on its flat face she had ever seen.

" _Yoooowl_." Even its meow is ugly.

She raises her eyebrows in surprise as Jason cuddles it close, clearly happy to have it. The ghastly beast flops like dead weight in the boy's lap, its fat pooling in Jason's waist, and it doesn't put up any fight to the child's manhandling. It lazily blinks and purrs so loud it vibrates Jason and her as the boy rubs his head against its own, petting it's stocky ears with a smile. And Elizabeth is shocked to see Jason doing something again; relieved to the point of pure joy to see it. But, the happiness of seeing him react so positively is almost overwhelmed by her concern over… what, exactly he is holding.

Is that…

She blinks as Tristan let's out a puff of air, grumbling out a quick, "Great, it's still alive."

"Jason has a pet cat?" Elizabeth asks tentatively. She is overjoyed again, of course, when Jason nods his head eagerly to answer her, squeezing the cat to him like he would one of his stuffed toys. And suddenly she thinks this cat might be a gift from fate, that maybe she should get him _ten more cats_ if it makes her little boy this happy-

But then the gray colored thing yowls low and deep and continuously, in a rather possessed sort of way.

"Um…" She tries to keep her voice bright, not trying to reveal her slight alarm at Jason's 'little' friend as she looks over at Tristan, slightly desperate, "It this the cat that- from-?"

"Uh huh," Tristan answers blandly, his face flat as he watches Jason blink slowly at the thing- and it did the same back. "That's the cat. Jason named it Myrtle." She shifts Jason to sit more in her lap, his back resting against her chest as Tristan goes on, "The two of them do almost everything together. We're stuck with it," he explains, positively grim, "permanently."

Elizabeth absentmindedly rubs her hand against Jason's arm, thinking of the night Meliodas had told her about their- _his_ children. He had told her about Jason saving a kitten, and healing it somehow, but it is remarkable that the cute little animal she had pictured is actually the incredibly strange feline allowing the little prince to pull and twist it. Then another memory comes, of lying on the beach of Barsil, looking up from Meliodas' dead body and seeing Tristan hovering over her, tears streaming down his face. She realizes now she had been hallucinating, and somehow she had found her way back, a combination of her healing power and Tristan's voice. He had told her that story again, and she had returned to herself, all in perfect clarity now.

For the first time, she wonders about the magic the Great Leader had mentioned, the magic that had wrapped around her so tightly he could not unravel it enough to see it clearly.

Thoughts of the curse and this mysterious power make her feel a bit dizzy, and she looks down at Myrtle again. The cat slowly turns its gaze to look up, to stare at her with a gold intense focus, that actually makes her a bit nervous as it lets out another long, drawn out, "Yooooowl."

"Um…" Why was she sweating? Why did she suddenly feel _judged_ by an animal, and furthermore like she had _failed_ in that test-

She decides to blame it on the incredibly exhausting few days, _that_ was the reason why she is having a stare off contest with a feline, when the door clicks open and the physician bustles in and drops his bag loudly on the desk. "My apologies, Your Grace!" he says, and Elizabeth nearly jumps off the bed at the sound, her head snapping around as he fumbles closer to the bed.

"Thank you for coming," she breathes, rubbing Jason's shoulder and arm.

"Yes, yes, well let's see," he replies blandly, putting on his glasses and stepping forward. Elizabeth nudges Jason until he sits up more, but he moves a hand to keep a tight grip on her shirt, the other slung around the waist of his cat. "I'm right here," she murmurs, offering a smile. Jason looks at the doctor nervously, his eyes flickering over to Tristan who cracks a small smile to help as the elderly man leans forward. He does nothing to hide his obvious scowling as he looks in the boy's ears, then his eyes, and then examines his neck and scalp for injuries; poking and probing him in his ribs and sides until Jason tries to move away, clearly uncomfortable.

The physician slides his glasses up on top of his head as he straightens. "I don't see any obvious serious injuries on His Highness," he says. "The king mentioned that the boy has not spoken since yesterday?"

Elizabeth nods, her hands squeezing Jason close momentarily. "It was terribly frightening, I think," she offers.

"Hmmm. It could be a head injury, they can be tricky things." The physician turns around, digging through his bag, finally getting fed up and turning it over and dumping its contents out with a clatter on the desk with a huff. "Is that necessary?" Tristan bites out from his spot at the window.

"My apologies," the physician answers tightly, "but my _assistant_ failed to show up this morning, and he usually handles the equipment." He paws through the pile of instruments, his scowl pulling his face down more. "Let's see if that boy has a job tomorrow shall we? I can not wait to see how his father reacts to this." He huffs again before finally pulling out a very strange and sharp-looking tool. Elizabeth feels Jason shrink back against her, ducking behind the large bulk of his cat, and she asks, "What-what is that for?" even she has to fight back gulping as it shines in the light, looking far closer to an instrument of torture than medicine.

"I'm simply going to examine his throat, Your Grace," the physician says tightly, clearly exasperated by all the questions, but then he makes a terrible mistake: he suddenly shoots out an arm, grabbing the cat by the scruff of the neck and yanks it away, tossing it from them with a quick, "Vermin-carrying animal, the lot. Shoo shoo!"

Then Tristan is striding across the room as Jason makes his first sound since last afternoon. The little boy's heartbreaking and frightened cry has Elizabeth up and after the ugly cat before Jason can completely scramble off her lap, bolting after the hissing animal as it lands with a crash near a table. At the same time, Tristan grabs the bag and pushes it at the doctor before he can even begin to sputter. "Get out," he growls, yanking open the door and practically tossing him out of the room before slamming the door shut.

"Tristan!" Elizabeth exclaims as she scoops up the upset boy onto one shoulder, and the agitated cat into the other, its fur puffed out until it looks like a giant dust bunny. "What are you doing?!"

He whirls around on her, and Elizabeth stiffens for a moment. She notes how his eyes seemed to be darker, a crackle of energy barely noticeable by the outline of his scalp, and she instinctively tightens her hold on Jason as they lock gazes. But, to her relief Tristan's frame relaxes, and his eyes return to normal. "He wasn't doing any good," he muttered. "I'm sorry."

She searches his face before scolding him softly, "That was rude. I'm sure he didn't mean any harm, he is just-" She sucks in a breath. "I didn't know you had such a temper."

"Well you wouldn't, would you?" he snaps.

Elizabeth gasps at the harshness of his tone, and his words, rearing back as though he had struck her as Jason ducks his head into the crook of her neck, and Tristan's mouth drops open in shock.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-" Tristan pales a bit and shuffles his feet, looking around with frustration as he squeezing his fists over and over, but before their conversation can continue the door opens again and Meliodas steps inside. He stops and looks between the two, the tension obvious, before saying, "Yo. Everything alright?"

Elizabeth blinks back the tears that had momentarily threatened, shaking it off. "Yes, yes of course. The physician was just here, but," her eyes go to look at Tristan on reflex, "he had to leave."

Meliodas nods, making a noise in confirmation and comes to stand next to her, and as he looks down at Jason resting against her he brings his hand up to playfully pinch Jason's leg. "Jason! I need to borrow your mom for a bit. Tristan's going to take you to the Boar Hat though, okay?"

Jason turns and presses his cheek on her shoulder, looking at his father through his lashes with a pout, and Elizabeth frowns. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asks, her eyes flickering over to Tristan who watches with a tense look on his face.

"Myrtle's here to keep him company," Meliodas nods, grinning as he pats the cat on the head, "He'll have Tristan, Lancelot, and Hawk watching out for him too. He'll be fine." He pauses, thinking it over before frowning. "And I'll punch anyone to death who bothers him, promise."

"Stand in line," Tristan's murmurs flatly, his arms folded over his chest again.

"See?" Meliodas says, pointing at their oldest son with a nod of the head.

Elizabeth is suddenly, inexplicably reluctant to let the boy go, but she realizes there is nothing else to be done. They have work to do, she can't put that off, and much to discuss. She can't exactly spend all her time with him attached to her and a fur ball slung over her shoulder. Well, she could…

She sighs with a heavy heart as she gives Jason a kiss on the head, placing him down on the floor as she whispers, "Tristan will keep you safe. I will come and check on you in a little bit." Then with a second of uncertainty, Elizabeth kisses him again on the forehead and murmurs, "I love you." Then she hands him back the giant blob of cat as he quickly snatches it up, the thing all but half his body size as he plops his head against it and walks towards his brother.

Tristan grabs him up quickly, not making eye contact with any of them as he carries Jason from the room.

There is a second after the door clicks shut, just a moment before Elizabeth sags on the bed, pressing her forehead into the palm of her hand as she chokes back a sob, tears beginning to tremble and haze over her eyesight.

"Elizabeth?" Meliodas' voice is filled with confusion and concern as he steps closer, but she simply shakes her head, burying her face in her hands. "I don't understand," she moans, and she truly doesn't; the pain, the confusion, _the anxiety._ "How can I- I mean, those two boys are not even _my_ -" She looks up at him then, swallowing hard and the way his brows are creased somehow makes the tears flow over, running down her cheeks even harder. "I know you said I belong here with you, but- but Sir Meliodas, I-"

Suddenly she is caught up in his arms, and he hugs her against his chest. His arm is clamped around her back, nearly squeezing the air out of her lungs. Her body is trembling almost feverishly and with a quick sob, she is burying her face against his chest.

She presses her cheek against him as she feels her warm tears slide down to stain his white shirt, her hands trembling as they grip him just as Jason had held onto her since the blast. "Hey, Elizabeth. It's okay. It's gonna be hard, but I'm not going anywhere." Meliodas smoothes his hands down her hair, crooning soft words into her ear, and she gives a shuddering sigh. Her emotions are positively churning, made up of bottled up fears and from the situation; and the feelings come floating up like a knife to her chest, pain lacing through her body with every sob and hiccup and cry- but she cannot even begin to describe how she feels, how scared she is about everything.

Meliodas doesn't speak anymore, but simply strokes her hair absentmindedly, shifting his fingers through it, before gently brushing her hair away from sticking to her forehead. He kisses her flushed cheek, moving to place one on her nose then her forehead, leaving a trail of pecks until the rolling feelings inside her begin to calm. He has a few strands of silver hair in his fingers, looking down at them pensively as Elizabeth pulls back and looks down at his chest. "Your shirt is all wet," she croaks sadly, and jumps a bit when he laughs. "I suppose it is," he replies, and then pulls her up to stand.

"Come on, let's go see what Merlin found." He doesn't try to hide how he was feeling, no disappointment or annoyance on his face, no. His adoration is written plainly for her to see.

* * *

He has seen Elizabeth cry a thousand times, over everything from the death of her father to a particular incident where a tureen of soup was poured right over his head by a _very upset_ and very pregnant wife, but no matter how many times it had happened or for what reason, it always unnerved Meliodas. His chest expands on a deep sigh, as he now watches her closely out of the corner of his eye, waiting to see any signs of the tears that could spill at any moment.

Meliodas had been expecting another episode at some point, true. His wife was very strong willed, focused, but when Elizabeth had become surprisingly calm and like her usual court-like self despite the terrible blast in Camelot, he had let her go. He imagines that if anything would set her off into another panicked, imbalanced and lost state it would have been that. But he was surprised and impressed that she had been so very normal, thankful that she had stayed in her right mind to see to others and take care of the sick; like Elizabeth always had.

However, it is almost a small relief that she had shed some tears… since that is also a very Elizabeth sort of thing to do. Bottling it all up doesn't work, he would know.

They walk down the hall hand in hand, Elizabeth back to patting her cheeks and wiping lingering tears from her eyelashes, in an attempt to gather herself, still sniffling once in awhile. When they find Merlin in the queen's private office, his worry deepens slightly as she looks around, examining all of the items inside. She swipes a strand of hair behind her ear as she focuses on her feet.

It is obvious she recognizes none of it- of course she wouldn't, she isn't... he swallows thickly, squeezing her hand before he steps forward, stuffing his hands into his pockets, before saying to Merlin, "You found it?"

"Aye." Merlin, sitting at the queen's desk, nods and holds up a little book with a flower on it, just as Jason described. "It wasn't too difficult, just a Location spell and Ban's _Snatch_ and it was out in no time."

He looks over at Ban, whose long form is stretched over a chair, his legs kicked out as he stares at the ceiling. "Anyone else joining us, Cap'n?" he asks blandly, his eyes half open and a bottle of ale in his hand.

Meliodas shakes his head. Elaine must have held nothing back, the poor guy. "Now that Jason may be involved, I want to keep this quiet. Only us Sins. I have Gilthunder beginning to work on shoring up our defenses after the attack on Camelot, expanding the platoons on watch." He turns back to Merlin. "Where is Escanor?"

"It will be noon in a few hours, so he is outside of the city. But he is certainly keeping an eye out. I asked Gowther to go with him, I hope you don't mind," she finished with a smile.

Meliodas nods. "Good, that's perfect."

"Then let's get this damn thing read, so we can figure out who to kill for bringing a building down on our heads," Ban says.

Merlin stands and offers Elizabeth the desk chair, which she takes gratefully as the Mage pats her on the shoulder. Meliodas stands next to her, trying to look comfortable as he leans against the desk, comfortably slouched as the mage hands him the book before perching on the corner. "Your Grace," she says, "I know you won't remember writing these things, but since they are your own words, I figured you could at least give us some insight behind what you wrote."

"Of-of course," Elizabeth stammers. Meliodas opens the journal and flips through the pages, his eyes tracing over the neat handwriting that filled each from top to bottom, before handing it to her.

"This belongs to the queen," Elizabeth trails off as she looks through it more slowly. "I never kept a journal before," she murmurs as she skims along the pages, a finger tracing over the letters.

"If you open to the bookmark," Merlin says, "you'll find your first notes about the victims."

She nods and flips ahead, pulling out a small metal plate with the royal crest on it, and after glancing over it for a moment, she reads aloud:

 _March 3_

 _It has come to my attention that another one of Lioness' citizens has suddenly lost their memories, and I cannot say this is an isolated incident any longer. It had started off as a strange illness, and at first with just a few people suddenly with symptoms such as being confused and without memory- they had been thought mentally ill and taken to facilities. Trying to find all of them and get them released to me had been difficult, as some are extremely agitated, confused or near death but I believe I have found all the people affected in Lioness and Camelot. The most startling development that has occurred is that… this is something I can not heal. That is alarming, coupled with how terrifying this illness is; I hope I find good news fairly soon. This will be the fifth person in as many months._

 _It's concerning, and I will ride out myself tomorrow to visit one of the families. I consulted the royal physician, and he said he had never heard of such a thing. I am not surprised, he isn't very… open minded, to say the least. Could it be an illness of some kind, something on the scale of the Black Death or a new plague? I can't find a connection to the others at all._

Meliodas listens with his arms folded, his brows drawn down as he stares off, and Elizabeth glances up at him briefly before moving onto the next page.

 _March 4_

 _The patient this time, it is Sir Cador-_

Elizabeth looks up suddenly, her eyes wide as she gasps, "I-I know Sir Cador! His family has served the king-I, I mean, my father-"

Meliodas nods. "This must be the son, since the elder Sir Cador died last year. The entire family are Holy Knights."

"They are bigger busy bodies than Harico's brats." Ban mutters, before Merlin corrects with a quick, "Jericho," and Ban waves his hand around in a whatever gesture.

"The younger Sir Cador?" Elizabeth says in a small voice, gripping the book tight. "I remember him- as a child-" Meliodas watches her close her eyes briefly before continuing on:

 _The patient this time, it is Sir Cador. It fills me with heartache to see a long time friend, of myself and my family in this condition. He is the same as the others, clear and rational one moment, lucid at times; but then not remembering things, sometimes speaking nonsense. When Cador woke up last Thursday, he thought his father was still alive. Based on the conversation, it seems he has lost approximately seven years. His wife he does not recognize, having only been married for five. His children, he is adamant they are not his. His limbs are showing signs of muscle decay, more bones showing through his pallid skin, and his balance is all but gone, his speech jerky. He is falling more, which I will blame of his body losing its strength. He calls people by the wrong name and thinks he is in another place. He became all but violent when I tried to correct him, to tell him he wasn't lost. That this he is where he should be._

"How sad," Elizabeth whispers.

"It goes on from there," Merlin says. "The queen described each one, and listed them in her notes. The queen visited all fourteen patients."

Meliodas looks over Elizabeth's shoulder as she reads through the list: more prominent Holy Knights, a healer by craft who had found cures to several different poisons, a rich prominent woman of a great spice trade, a scientist, the only son of a wealthy nobleman, two diamond-ranked Holy Knights from Camelot renowned for their fighting techniques, and even a Giant clan leader who was helping strengthen ties between their people. "Is there any link at all?" he asks Merlin. "Any pattern?"

"None." Merlin shakes her head, but then Elizabeth says slowly, her voice soft, "I know all of these people." He exchanges a glance with Merlin, whose eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, and then looks down at Elizabeth. "You know them?"

"Yes, I…" Elizabeth nods as she gathers herself, taking a deep breath. "They all served my father, or were nobility of some kind. Some of these are even ancient families, seven generations taking the knighthood oath. They would come to court for events, or- or would come to the castle to meet with my father. Here!" She looks up at him with shining eyes, pointing at one name, "This woman! Lady Claire Maryleens. I _know_ her, we have been to many balls and royal events together." Elizabeth reads through the page, clearly starting to feel sick as her hand comes up to her chest, tightening on her clothes. "She grew up to be a scientist? That's wonderful. But- but I've… I've met every single one of them Sir Meliodas." Her breath suddenly catches. "I think, could it be that _I'm_ the link between them."

"Let's not jump to any conclusions," Meliodas says quickly. Although he has to admit to himself, it is odd that only Britannia's nobility and most powerful were the only ones afflicted. "And what does any of this have to do with Jason?"

"Skip to September," Merlin advises, and Elizabeth eagerly turns the pages, her breath catching again as she locates his name.

 _September 21_

 _The strangest thing happened today. Jason told me about a dream he had about Sir Morgan. I only met him again last week, and now he has lost eleven years. He is the most sickly of the fourteen, his symptoms progressing far quicker than Jonathan, who only lost a year, so when Jason had asked me if I had ever returned his hat to him, I was more than startled. When I asked him what he meant, he said that he saw Sir Morgan upset because his favorite hat had been stolen. I remember that from when we were children! Veronica had taken it and hidden it in a tree, and Morgan was so upset that Margaret and Gil forced her to apologize as I climbed up to get it. I could not have been more than Jason's age when that happened._

 _I… do not want to speculate. Jason has always been the most delicate of my children, I do not wish to bring him into this if possible, and I will not willingly._

 _I thought perhaps Sir Morgan told him that story when he was here last week to discuss the needs of the hospital, but I wrote to him only to discover that he is now afflicted with the memory loss as well. Dear Morgan has lost almost eleven years of his life, and his deputy at the hospital is in a panic because he was the most skilled surgeon there. They are already falling behind, the people in the Village of Astolat are in a uproar._

"Another one queenie knew," Ban observes, bringing his bottle up to rest against his lips.

"Morgan," Elizabeth breathed, and a few tears spring to the corners of her eyes. "He was always such a kind young man. So very brilliant too."

But Meliodas barely hears her, his own heart thundering loudly. "Jason dreamt about him," he says in a low tone. "Just like he dreamt about Elizabeth." His foot is tapping before he can stop it, and he can feel agitation, the anxiety he is trying to control tense his muscle as Merlin looks over to observe.

Merlin nods eagerly. "It seems that way. And over the next few days, the queen recorded other dreams he had about other victims. She must have begun to interview him. And, there is this." She leans over to flip through the book herself, pulling out a carefully folded paper and handing it to Meliodas, Elizabeth watching while nibbling on her lower lip.

The king takes it and opens it, angling for Elizabeth and Ban to see. It is a picture drawn by a child, of an overturned boat of all things. There are figures in the water, and Meliodas gives a harsh laugh. "What is this? Did Jason draw this?" His fingers crinkle the edges of the page, as Merlin nods.

"It was another of his dreams," Merlin replies. "That is a dream of the Lady Mallory, whose grandfather is the richest landowner in Camelot. Nearly half the army of the civilian guard serve under him. She is his only heir, _was_ his only heir, until she lost ten years. She thinks she is twelve years old now." She holds out a long finger and points at the picture, landing on one of the dark shapes in the water. "Mallory nearly drowned when she was about seven, when her boat capsized. Both of her parents drowned too. Jason dreamt this one in July, and Mallory lost her memories the first week of August."

The idea that his son dreamt this horrible event, that he could have seen it clearly enough to have drawn this picture so accurately, fills Meliodas with a creeping horror. His stomach turns as he thinks of Jason waking up from this nightmare- how many times? And Elizabeth, to be dealing with this on her own, to be _listening_ to him describe such terrible visions… "I don't understand," Meliodas says slowly, his teeth clenched. He doesn't understand, not at all. Not why this is happening, not why Elizabeth had never showed him this before, and not why he had not even noticed this was going on, right under his nose.

He was _there,_ and he hadn't had the time to see something, to _notice_ something as important as his son being terrorized every time he closed his eyes?

His hand automatically goes to his head, where his crown _would_ be sitting if he hadn't left it in his study, and his hand tightens in his hair. If he had the damn thing on he would have thrown it through the wall, and he would not care if it landed miles outside of the kingdom in a pile of manure.

"Do you see that symbol on the boat?" Merlin continues, not bothering to answer as his eyes swivel to the side to look at her, his expression darkening. "Elizabeth drew it here, on this page." She eagerly skips forward to point it out.

It was a intricate marking, with squiggles and small symbols inside of the two sided mark. It stands out on the page as Jason colored it brown and golden yellow, and if Meliodas squinted and turns his head just right it kind of looks a hammer head; one side curved than flat, and the other end spiked. It could be that, but he was more worried that Elizabeth noted the symbol again and again.

"There's no other notes about it other than this page, and it's not a part of Mallory's family's sigil, I know that much. But Elizabeth must have drawn this one here, look, because-"

"I don't _understand_ ," Meliodas interrupts harshly. Over and over he tries to picture Elizabeth writing this journal. Over and over he tries to think of _why_ Jason would go to her and never him. Was she scared? Was she upset? Was Jason? Now he may never know, and he can feel it eating at him, making his skin crawl. Because, she _wasn't here to ask._

Furious now, he looks up at Merlin, his eyes a dark green. "How can this be happening? What the hell does Jason, of all people, have to do with _any_ of this?" When Merlin doesn't answer, the room descending into silence, he tosses the drawing on the desk as if it had burned him, stepping back as Ban sits up. His bottle clinks and rolls across the floor. " _Why?!_ Damn it, why didn't she tell me any of this? Why wouldn't Elizabeth-" The question catches in his throat, and his head snaps over to see her reaction to his slip.

Damn.

There are tears slipping down her flushed cheeks, but she is absolutely silent, sitting perfectly still in her seat as she looks anywhere but at them. She is clearly trying to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible. And this time he knows those tears are because of him, and his hearts flips over in his chest as her shoulders shake minutely, her hand slowly sliding down the page of the notebook. "Elizabeth..."

Elizabeth does not answer, but simply nods as her tears slip quietly, and when she reads another entry, her voice is hoarse:

 _October 6_

 _Jason dreamt about me last night. That is enough to know I am no longer able to keep this to myself any longer, that the situation is far larger and more terrible than I thought. It is out of my control now, if it ever was. It was the same type as the others, the vision shaded blue and accompanied by a cold sweat. I tried everything to help him, but if he sleeps he will dream, and... He dreamt of the night Meliodas was killed in Vaizel._

Her voice catches and her lip trembles, and she has to quickly bring a hand up to wipe her eyes on her dress sleeve, but Elizabeth continues on as her hands clench around the book:

 _Some of the details, however, are wrong. He described me climbing a wall of the maze, but we never climbed the wall. He also described all the players there, but one did not fit. I made him describe him again, this is not the first time he has seen this figure. It was a man with dark hair and a long cloak, a bundle of rope in his hand, he said. It is a vague description, but everyone else who was there is accounted for in his dream. I tried to ask more about him, but Jason seemed reluctant to talk about him. Not scared necessarily, but more like he can not. It is the only thing he can not describe in detail each time. I wonder now how accurate the other dreams truly were? I wish that the patients were doing better, so I can ask. But I would hate to risk their health by confusing them with a false memory._

 _I am glad that I asked Merlin last week to help. Although she has not come up with an enchantment yet that could be causing this, I am certain that she will discover something that will help._

There is a heavy silence in the room, punctured only by Elizabeth's quiet crying as no one moves. Unsure of where to go, Meliodas says gravely, "Are there any more?"

Ban hisses loudly through a clenched jaw, his gaze intense as he looks to the side, muttering, "A man with a rope, eh…?"

"One more," Elizabeth whispers half-heartedly, Meliodas frowning more as he meets Ban's gaze, and she is clearing her throat as she turns the page:

 _October 7_

 _I have reviewed everything again and realized that each of the afflicted visited the court some time in the weeks before they lost their memories. I have to also conclude that Jason's dream always fall some time between that visit and the loss. I have to finally admit to myself that Jason can almost certainly predict the next one with his "blue dream" with an accuracy that can not be labeled a coincidence. That he is able to somehow pick up on whatever, or whomever is making all this occur around him._

 _How is this possible? What about the man who doesn't belong in Vaizel? Jason told me he saw him before, that he knows he will see him again... and I was so frightened I have sent him to Camelot. Just simply packed his bags and teleported him there in the same hour he had told me that. I pray that he is safe there, with the vague instruction that he must stay by Arthur's side for Royal training, hoping that this plan will be enough to keep my son close to someone of significant strength at all times. Hopefully this will give me some time to figure this out. If Jason was near each person just before they fell ill, I am hoping that the miles between us will keep my memories from leaving me._

 _I… do not wish to say it, or even think it, but, what if there could be a direct link between all of this and my son? Something that Jason is doing? Has done? I do not want to think he is somehow, inadvertently_ _ **causing**_ _this. I refuse to even contemplate the ridiculous notion that a child like Jason harbors malicious intent towards anyone. He is a healer, not because he was born that way but because he chooses to be. He is gentle. His magic has never shown anything else. I know this, Meliodas knows this, and even our close friends in court know this. However… I fear if others were to look into this case and see him, read his connection, they would gladly point the finger his way. There would be a witch hunt for him, and I will not allow that. For his protection I need him to stay silent, at least until I know he will be safe from prosecution- he is rather excited to keep our secret._

 _I have also sent word with Jason for Merlin to come right away, but I understand she is not in Camelot at the moment. I don't know where she is._

 _I must tell Meliodas when he returns from the west about all of this. I wanted to keep him from worrying, from putting more onto his already full plate, but if my memories start to leave me he will need to know what has happened, and to keep Jason safe. I know he will care more of our son's safety, as I do. I only pray that Merlin has something when she returns._

Elizabeth stares at the back cover of the journal, as if expecting to see more there as the words end. There is nothing more to read, and Meliodas wants to go to her, to pull her up against him in a comforting hug that they both need.

But he can feel his muscles tensing in anger.

Why didn't she tell him sooner? Why didn't she tell him the _very moment_ he had returned? He remembers the trip west, going to check on the knights on the coast and stopping in the Fairy King's Forest on the way back. He had returned the day before Elizabeth had awoken not knowing where she was. They had spoken for a while when he returned, had dinner together, had gone to bed together… and she had said nothing.

She had chosen silence, keeping the secret until the end.

* * *

Tristan finds Lancelot on the third floor balcony of the Boar Hat after trudging himself up the stairs, somehow, _finally,_ putting Jason down for bed in the guest room. He finds Lancelot lying on his back with his feet propped up on the railing. "Kid finally asleep?" he grumbles as Tristan steps over him, leaning against the railing with a sigh, the puff of white air escaping his mouth in the cold.

"Yeah," he replies as he looks out to stare at the tall walls of the Lioness gates, the Boar's Hat positioned on top of a hill looking outwards over the kingdom. He turns to slide down and sit heavily next to him, Tristan noticing a long cigarette hanging from Lancelot's mouth, the bright red tip glowing, and he scoffs, "Since when did you start smoking?"

"Hey, there's a lot you missed when you were gone," he huffs, his eyes half lidded as he looks up at the stars, "I needed something to help getting over the trauma of going home. I think Ma still has enough Fairy Magic to make her yelling into a weapon." But then he snatches it from his lips, after taking a long drag, and with a grin and says, "I don't usually smoke them. I just use them to make me look good. Do you want one?" he blows out the smoke, the large cloud puffing around them.

"No," answers Tristan with a roll of his eyes, waving a hand in front of his face to disperse the smoke. "I think I'm good."

"Suit yourself," Lancelot shrugs. "Let me know if you do. I know a guy."

"Of course you do." The prince laughs for real this time. "But don't let your mother find out about them. She'll really kick your ass."

"Mmhmm." Tristan thinks he can almost see his friend blush despite the darkness of the night. "Yeah, well, worry about your own mother." There is a pause as Lancelot puts his arms behind his head. "Speaking of which, that was crazy, huh?"

"Which part?" Tristan shakes his head as he leans back against the railing, slumping over a bit and for a moment they sit there in silence… just staring off, finally relaxed for the first time in _days._ "I have no idea what is going on." he finally speaks up. "One minute she's fine, and then the next…" He looks out between the rails, the castle partially lit in the distance, the thousands of citizens already home. The many houses of the kingdom were alight, the streets deserted; it was a calming sight.

"Still, I wish we got to stay to find out what was in that journal," Lancelot mutters. "But the king's on the warpath now, huh?"

"Why do you care so much?" asks Tristan with a frown as he looks over again.

"One, we're family. She's _my_ aunt. And two, aren't you curious?" He holds the cigarette up to examine it, tching loudly before he flicks it to the side. "I mean, Jason _dreamed_ about your dad getting killed. He totally described Vaizel on the money, don't you think? And then he goes to tell us about some mystery man, and we get freaking attacked?" He scoffs, loudly, "Oh yeah, totally a coincidence."

Tristan does not answer for a long moment, his eyes still trained on the castle. Yes, he is absolutely burning to know what his mother had written down about the curse, what there is to know about how his brother was involved, what there is to do. A part of him is actually even miffed his father would send them away, like the two of them were still children Jason's age. But, a big part of him is also relieved to have a break of sorts from the situation.

"I was… I was harsh with her this morning."

"What? With who?" Lancelot asks, and Tristan glances over as Lancelot's brows shoot up, seeing it in his eyes. "You mean, _the queen_? Your _mother?"_ He whistles loudly, "The hell man. What did you do that for?" He sits up eagerly. "Tell me _everything."_

"There's nothing to tell," the prince answers quickly, shifting around a bit. "I just… I snapped at her. Lost my temper, I guess. I said things and did things I shouldn't and-" He's cut off by Lancelot huffing out a laugh and he snaps his head up to look at him, frowning. "What?"

" _Lost your temper?"_ answers his friend, as he uses air quotes with his hands to emphasis his point. "There seems to be a lot of _that_ going around."

"What do you mean?" Tristan asks warily.

Lancelot gives another harsh laugh. "You're kidding me, right? Do you not recall almost taking out that bartender? And then those creeps at Vaizel? Hell, you practically _shoved_ King off you when your mom was freaking out."

"I didn't almost take out the bartender," Tristan mutters defensively.

"Uh huh. Yeah, you just knocked a guy twice your size over and threatened to chop his hand and head off. Oh, okay." Lancelot laughs at the memory. "I mean, yeah he deserved it, but you're not the kind of guy who does that. Or you weren't. And what about _Massive Strike_? Where the hell did that come from? What the hell _was that?_ "

There is a beat of tense silence, Lancelot's red eyes boring into him, before Tristan answers, "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Lancelot asks slowly. "Well, wherever it came from, it would have killed them. They would have been _dead_."

"Yeah, I _know that_ ," he bites back in annoyance. "But I don't know where it came from. It just came out." Suddenly Tristan finds himself spilling everything. "It keeps flaring up, like a flash of heat under my skin, and I can hear myself say things and see myself do things that I can't explain. And when it happens it's like a- a faucet or a flood I can't turn off. But Lancelot, it- it makes me feel _powerful_." He looks at his friend, who is listening raptly with his mouth open. "You know how you can feel your power pulse just before you use it? Those times, and when I used _Massive Strike_ \- it was the strongest I had ever felt it. Not just stronger, hundreds of times stronger."

Lancelot lets out a low whistle. "Wow. That sounds amazing."

"It's not amazing," he mumbles. "When it flares out, I have a hard time putting it back in. I have to _struggle_ with this- whatever it is. I've never experienced anything like this, Lancelot. Ever. If my father hadn't stopped me with-" Suddenly Lancelot hops up and stands perfectly straight, his eyes scanning out in the darkness. "What is it?" asks the prince, turning to follow his gaze.

"Something coming," Lancelot murmurs. Then, to Tristan's surprise, he hoists himself over the railing and drops down to the ground below.

"Shit," Tristan curses under his breath, scrambling back inside through the window and grabbing his sword from where it hung on the end of the bed. He quickly and quietly hurries down the steps with a quick backward glance to make sure Jason was still asleep. "Tristan!" Hawk calls to him when he reaches the downstairs, but Tristan gestures for him to be quiet, waving him back. "There's something out there," the pig whispers harshly, and Tristan nods, grabbing the lantern hanging at the bottom of the steps. "Stay here," he orders, "and make sure nothing gets upstairs."

He steps outside silently and hops off the steps. Looking around, he can't see anyone or anything. "Lancelot?" he hisses, but there is no answer.

Tristan walks around the outside of the tavern, keeping his hand ready to draw his sword. He circles nearly the entire thing when there is a shout from beyond the line of trees, and Tristan takes off in the direction. "Lancelot!" he calls, louder now, and then skids to a halt when all of a sudden Lancelot's body comes flying out of the night, careening through the lining of the trees to land with a loud thud a few yards away.

"Lancelot!" he cries again, taking a step towards him.

A twinge on his neck makes his hair stand up, and he halts.

Turning as every sense comes flaring to life, he focuses back into the shading darkness of the woods. Tristan draws his sword, sliding it out of the holster with a loud scraping sound and peers into the night. Something is close, coming towards the Boar Hat; something powerful and dark and somehow familiar.


	22. Measured In Moments

A/N: Today is a day that will live in infamy. We have finished our chapter and we are so excited for you to read it! Have fun our lovelies!

BettyBest2: It was a long chapter yea. Our longest yet! I'm glad you like our butt ugly cat and enjoyed the reading of the journal. Yep he did lose his temper didn't he? We think he held it together pretty well until now.

sassykitten1701: Well, ARE WE?!

Cerulean Grace: You, on our longest chapter yet was able to focus on only one sentence out of all of that? And then write a review about it? We think you might have an addiction love.

Kamira: Thank you love. Lickitysplit puts her all into making our characters more than these one-dimensional background OOC. We are super happy you are happy with them!

CaptainTwiggo0918: Jason needs hugs, and so does Tristan you are right lol. You are not the only one who thinks that hahaha!

MarianaBuBuLuBu: We are glad you like it love!

Peacerockgirl123: Mmmhmm

Vhosek: We mostly do that because we are a tad bit evil. Oh my, thank you very much we are so happy you like to read this so much, it really makes our day!

Fanficlove2014: Thank… you… so… MUCH! Hehehehe, we love freaking people out, it is our love and passion.

Chapter twenty two: Measured In Moments

* * *

It was approaching, with a casual and eerie confidence towards the Boar Hat, and the energy is both powerful and familiar. Tristan is torn between hauling Lancelot inside, make a retreat for reinforcements, or making a stand in the clearing. He decides to fight, having the advantage of the tavern at his back. His hand grips his sword tightly, the edge flashing with his power as he hisses over his shoulder, "Lancelot?! Say something!"

"Fuck, that hurt," is the croaked response from the ground and Tristan blows out a breath, still looking out into the trees as his eyes focus in the dark. He's filled with relief that he's okay, but a twinge of suspense is stiffening his back, sliding into a ready position as he risks a glance back, his nervous jitters melting into anticipation at being able to fight, to _do something_. He sees Lancelot trying to sit up, slowly raising to his elbows with a groan as his head presses to the ground, the earth disturbed around him from where he slid, and Tristan focuses back on the enemy getting closer.

The lantern by his feet flickers out, the clearing descending back into darkness as the oppressive might snuffs out the fire.

 _Damn it._ Tristan's grip tightens until his knuckles crack. Lancelot was right, _no way_ was any of this a coincidence. "What is it?" he whispers. "Is it human?"

"Sort of?" he croaks, and Tristan looks at him in confusion again-

Just as the person steps out into the little clearing.

His head snaps back around, and he quickly sizing up the intruder as he raises his sword, noting that although the enemy may have a few inches on him, or the sheer presence of _malice_ the dark figure has, he has the broader physical mass, and the favorable position in the field. With every step forwards it makes, Tristan wishes that he could tell what race it is. But he is wearing a helmet that completely covers its features; the top spiked with multiple little horns and only one round hole in the front glaring back towards them. In the dark he can't make out much of what it is wearing, but the shine of metal off the moon helps, and once again, Tristan is surprised how familiar it seems to him.

He stands ready to defend the tavern despite the obvious malicious intent rolling off this guy. He was not gonna let him take a _step_ into the tavern. He shifts his stance, turning the sharp edge of his blade outwards as a cackle of fire sparks around the blade, and the prince moves with lightning speed, swinging his sword in a downward arc meant to disarm his opponent in a fraction of a second.

To his surprise the intruder was ready, stepping out of his way with minimum effort. Tristan can barely make him out in the limited light, so he relies on his senses and the flashes of metal against metal as he brings his longsword around to sweep at the figure behind him.

He clenches his teeth as he blocks another swing, _damn it this was_ \- he leaps to the left as a weapon slams into the ground, cracking rock- He grunts as a curved sword aims for his shoulder, nicking his skin just barely- then a swing towards the chest- and he almost lands a hit on the intruder's side- but then Tristan bends his back, leaning backwards a fraction of a second to miss a swipe to his face. Over and over and over he knocks the enemy's weapon backwards and his is knocked back, too; however, he is stopped as his weapon hits another, an arm coming down to parry him with a bigger, longer rod- the second weapon catching him off guard- and Tristan is knocked back with force as a blast of air and rocks is thrown with him.

His feet slid across the ground, and Tristan can barely stay standing- but then something hard and solid and blunt _slams_ into his unprotected stomach with _force._

Tristan gasps in pain, coughing and gagging as his face pales. He stumbles and falls to a knee, his vision spinning. He instinctively sweeps his sword upwards as he gains his footing back just in time- the other's weapon bearing down on him with a loud clang that he blocks just before it lands on his head. The vibrations echo through the clearing and over the trees, making birds dart into the sky for miles.

"Hey!" Lancelot yells, slowly climbing up as Tristan pushes, his muscles straining as he swipes his weapon out with a grunt, pushing back. His eyes narrow as he matches and counters blow for blow, the speed exploding until, suddenly, there is an agonizing pain in his side, a ripping and tearing feeling as he coughs up blood, falling with a cry.

He crashes onto his back, trying to swing the sword up to defend himself, but the pain is too great, his ribs screaming- and in his second of hesitation the enemy has stepped forward, in a blink of an eye squeezing a foot onto his forearm until he cries out in pain, to keep him from moving.

 _Fuck._ Tristan panics, trying to twist away but he can't, his father's continuous lessons of _your heart is filled with righteousness, your sword is to purge evil_ screaming in his ears, the same lesson that had been drilled into his head for years, as the person's weapon is lowered towards him, the gleam of the sharp edge a scant centimeter from his pounding chest.

"Gotcha!"

Tristan jolts in surprise at the voice of his opponent, because it's not only a _female_ voice, but it's a female voice he knows extremely well.

"W-what? L- _Lynette?!"_ He gasps through the pain, raising his pinned arm and pushes the figure off of him with all his might. She doubles over to the side with laughter, and his heart skips a beat at the undeniable sound. Her entire body shakes, and her armor rattles with chuckles and giggles and snorts before she pulls off the helmet.

Finally he can peer through the dark to see tousled messy blonde hair fall out to the person's shoulders, and a familiar smile flashes at him. "Is that you? What the hell?" His hand goes to his ribs as he hisses, "You almost took my head off." Tristan coughs again as she flips her hair back. "Oh come on," Lynette starts as he awkwardly scrambles up, clutching his side which he's sure is turning an ugly purple by now, even as the broken ribs underneath begins to heal itself slowly. "Easy there, don't hurt yourself!" she teases, throwing her head back to laugh again. His hand clenches around the hilt of his sword in anger as embarrassment flashes up his spine.

But a hand grabs his arm to steady him before he can do or say anything further. "Hey, Lynette!" Lancelot says cheerily at his elbow, his fingers digging into Tristan's arm in a silent plea to stay put. "I knew that was you."

"Oh you did not," she chuckles, sheathing her sword and swinging what Tristan can now see is a spiked hammer with a long, thin handle onto her metal shoulder-plate. "So!" she grins, her helmet under her other arm, "that is… twenty two to seventeen in my favor. Gods Tristan, _relax your stance will ya_?" Then she's laughing again as her brother huffs.

"Awesome hammer," Lancelot comments, his grin wide. "Is that new?"

"Uh huh," she says as she expertly twirls the handle in her fingers, looking up as the hammer head spins around with an almost fond gleam. "Pretty nice, huh?"

"It would have been nicer-" Tristan yanks his arm out of Lancelot's grip with a tight voice- "if you hadn't tried to break my chest with it. Lynette, what are you _doing_ here?"

"Oh come on, little brother," the girl laughs as she shrugs, and Tristan grits his teeth at the stupid nickname she had given him years ago, when she had finally grown taller than her _older_ brother. "I live here too, remember?" With another beautiful smile she continues on, turning on her heel to saunter towards the Tavern, "Dad sent for me to come home, although I don't know why. I've been apprenticing with Slader and right in the middle of training, woosh, there it is. I got his message and here I am. Why, is there- is something wrong?" Her voice grows suddenly serious, as she looks behind them with her brows drawing down. "What's going on?"

"Come on inside," Tristan finally says, shifting on his feet as he brushes dirt off his clothes. "I'll fill you in."

Lynette leads the way as they climb the steps back into the tavern, both boys putting on brave faces to cover up their sore muscles, and are greeted by a roaring Hawk at the door. "What is going on? Are we being attacked?" Suddenly he gasps loudly, pugo-ing as his ears flap, "What-Lynette!"

"Hawk! My little birdy!" she squeals, running forward, throwing her arms as much around the giant pig as she can, patting and cuddling as he puffs in happiness. "Oh you cute little piggy," she coos loudly as they both dance around in delight, and Tristan sits tenderly on one of the bar stools as Lancelot hops up on the counter, wincing as he shifts to get comfortable.

He watches as his sister chats excitedly with Hawk, and notes how much she has changed since he saw her six months ago. She still looks the same, her face almost identical to their mother's: the same bone structure, pointed nose, small mouth… and she could mimic dad's smile perfectly. Her tall, slender frame gives her at least three inches on him, her blonde hair a bit longer than when he left, after she had cut it all off when joining the Holy Knight's apprenticeship. It is still in short layers that frame her face and almost lay on her shoulders. Father had gone all lovely-eyed when he saw her with that haircut. In addition to the sabre she has strapped to her side, she is wearing a thin metal breastplate and metal waist guard over her torso, her arm guards strapped to her forearms with the royal Lioness crest. Underneath she is wearing tight black clothing, and she actually _looks_ like a Holy Knight.

Tristan might be annoyed that she had taken a shot at him, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't relieved. She was the muscles of their group and always had been.

Lynette drops her hammer on a table with a thud as she starts to undo the straps of her armor, placing her sword down on a chair, and giggles as Hawk shouts, "About time we had some decent company here! I've had no one but Lancelot for company for weeks, and now not even these two duds since they've been all over looking for a cure for the queen!"

Lynette pauses.

"A cure?" Lynette spins around, dropping her armor onto the table and looks at Tristan. "A cure for what? What's wrong with her?" Neither of them answer at first, and Lynette puts her hands on her hips, her blue eyes digging into them until they fidget. "Are you saying she's _sick?_ She can't get sick, she's a healer."

"Well, you'd be surprised." Lancelot grumbles, and Tristan takes a breath and closes his eyes, trying to think of how to begin. What should he do? He watches her face turn from annoyed to nervous. "Is someone going to answer me?" she demands, folding her arms, her eyes looking between them, deadly serious. Finally, Lancelot elbows Tristan hard in the ribs.

"Alright, alright." Tristan leans his weight back, sighing as he rests a hand on the counter. "Mom has… she's under a curse."

Lynette jerks up and murmurs, " _A curse_." She is clearly remembering what that entails, suddenly looking afraid, something that he is not used to seeing on his sister's face as her eyes become wide. "An actual curse? _What_ curse? How? What are you talking about?"

"We don't know how, or why," he continues gently. Tristan knows she deserves the truth, that Elizabeth isn't their actual mother, but he decides against revealing that detail just yet, afraid of her reaction. Instead, he tells her, "She woke up without her memories for the past twenty-five years. She thinks… she thinks she's seventeen."

" _Seventeen_?" Lynette's voice goes up in pitch as her hands curl into fists. Then she huffs and puts her hands on her hips. "This is a joke. You're playing a prank on me because-"

"It's not a joke," Tristan says firmly. He goes on to tell her about her reaction to him when they met, how there were others in Britannia who were afflicted, and how they had ended up in Vaizel. Her eyes go wide as he recalls her bizarre behavior and her collapse. Then Tristan describes their journey to Barsil, and the meeting with the Great Leader. "There is a-I don't know, a mark or something on her neck," he explains.

"What kind of mark?" Hawk squeals.

"It's… a noose," he responds slowly, hesitantly as he looks at his sister, to gauge her reaction.

Lynette, who has gone a bit pale during his story, sinks heavily in a stool. "Is she going to be okay?" she asks slowly, blinking a few times.

Tristan swallows, the watery look in her eyes making him nervous. He had been hoping she would be stronger than this, another ally that even _he_ could lean on, but she was taking this much worse than he had feared. "We don't know." A massive silence hangs in the room before Tristan jumps up and goes to her. He sits down in the stool next to hers, reaching out to rub her arm comfortingly, and she leans in. "She's alright for now, though. She actually- I don't know what happened, but after her episode in Barsil, she seems-"

"What episode?" Lynette demands, grumbling as she looks at him with a raised brow, and again Tristan begins explaining: her confusing memories, the delirium, how she had screamed and cried at things that were not even there. He is just about to tell her about Jason when she jumps up. "I want to see her," she says, a tinge of panic clear in her voice, but Tristan stands with her, keeping his grip on her arm.

"You can't," he says. "It's not- look, she reacted badly when we met. Shock doesn't even begin to describe it. Merlin said this was just going to get worse, and if you go storming up there, then you might set her off again."

"Tristan!" she snaps, annoyed, yanking her arm away as they stand toe to toe. "I need to see her, and you can't stop me. I'm _going."_

He sighs in frustration. "Look, fine. Then just wait until the morning okay? I'll take you myself, and introduce you the right way." and he watches her mouth screw up, her arms folding in anger, as she bites out, "Why can't we just go now?"

Tristan huffs, knowing this was her way of agreeing with him without actually agreeing. "I can't leave tonight." He looks over at Lancelot for a moment, who is watching them both silently from his place on the counter. Lancelot _always_ butts in where he doesn't belong, and now the _one_ time he actually needs him to… "We are here to guard Jason, who is upstairs asleep."

"Jason?!" Lynette practically shouts. "You didn't tell me he was here!" She starts to move, and then hesitates. "Guard him? From what?"

"I don't _know_ ," he says. "He's involved in this somehow. He's been having these dreams, and-" He pauses and glances at Lancelot again, looking for help. But his friend simply raises his eyebrows, so begrudgingly Tristan continues, "There was an explosion yesterday. Everyone is okay-!" he protests as she tries to interrupt him. "Mom healed everyone, but Camelot is a wreck. So we came back here. There's a journal or something they are looking for that has some answers, and I think if they can find that, then Mom-"

"Stop," she says softly, holding her palm up. Tristan pauses, unsure of what to do, but then as he steps forward she stumbles back a bit. "Just… I can't hear anymore."

Lynette turns and walks quickly across the room. "Where are you going?" he calls after her and her head whips around, glaring downwards at him.

"I'm going to see Jason! That alright with you?" she shouts back, her tone daring him to argue, and in the next moment she disappears up the steps as she stomps up them. Hawk shouts and hurries after her, squeezing up the staircase with a running start to fit his bulk.

Tristan bows his head, closing his eyes. That did _not_ go at all as he would have expected. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck as he sighs loudly, and turns to see that Lancelot has popped open a bottle of ale, tipping his head back to take a long drink. "Thanks for… your help," he mumbles.

Lancelot shrugs from where he is sitting. "You seemed to be doing fine."

"Yeah, but _she's_ not." Tristan takes his place on the stool again, turning to lean his arms across the counter, his hands clenching together. "Have you ever seen Lynette so shaken up? It was…" he tries to find the right words as he looks up at the ceiling, his face scrunching up, "it was weird."

"Yeah, but, I mean you did tell her that her mom doesn't remember her and might die and almost got blown up and everything." Tristan glares at him out of the corner of his eye, but Lancelot takes no notice as he hops off the counter, walking lazily across the floor. He goes over to the table where Lynette had dropped her things, taking another long sip from his bottle, before wiping some ale off his chin and leaning forward to examine the long-handled hammer without touching it. "This is new," Lancelot comments blandly. "Where do you think she got it from?"

Tristan shrugs. "She's been roaming around Lioness with Dawn Roar for almost three months. Who knows?"

"Hmmm," he murmurs.

* * *

Meliodas pulls up short as he enters the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him as he walks into the brightly light room, and he is surprised to see Elizabeth sitting in a chair by the large window that leads out to the balcony. He had half expected to find her gone, hidden somewhere, after everything they had learned from her journal… and he is relieved to find that he had been wrong. He swallows the lump that is lodged into his throat- remembering how he found her the time before in the tavern, and then the closet, when she had reached a breaking point.

This could be a good sign?

"Hey." His voice is bright, gentle, as he pulls off his coat and tosses it over a chair. He had retrieved his crown from his study, and now takes it off his head to place it on their side dresser, while Elizabeth turns her head only slightly in greeting, her eyes dim in the light. He tentatively walks over, his hand going out to softly rub her shoulder on reflex. "How are you, huh?"

"I'm fine," she says quietly, turning her face back to look out at the city, many of the buildings now lit up by lanterns in the quickly deepening night. "Where have you been?"

He looks out the window too, as he rubs his thumb into her skin, trying to soothe the tension out of her muscles. "I went with Gilthunder for a while," he says quietly, his voice softer as she nods her head, "making sure the Holy Knights had their instructions and everyone understood the threat. I don't want a repeat of yesterday." Elizabeth nods, again, and he brushes her hair back from her shoulder as she keeps her face turned to the window. He tilts his head to the side with a hum, thinking out loud for her. "Diane and King are back from Camelot now, and when the sun started to set Escanor came back too. We all met to make plans and discussed all the boring details. Gowther seems interested to examine your neck, if _that_ makes you feel any safer."

"I see," she answers, her tone noncommittal, and Meliodas' brows scrunch up, frowning as he watches her silently for another moment. He hadn't expected this. Not sure of what to say, he quietly plays with her hair, running his fingers through it the way he knew she liked; but her silent treatments are a formable weapon, and as she reaches forward and picks up a glass, he finally notices the cup full of a rich red liquid that goes to her lips. She takes a long sip of wine before placing it delicately back on the table.

"I'm sorry about what I said, earlier." he says tentatively.

"What you said?" she echoes, still gazing out at the city.

"More like, how I said it," he says quickly, looking to the side, "I was angry, but it wasn't at you, I want you to know that. What I said before when the boys left I _meant that,_ I was just..."

"Angry," Elizabeth finishes, "You were angry." She reaches out to take another sip of the wine, and Meliodas… he still frowns as his hand lands to rest against the back of her chair, squeezing the upholstery. "Since when do you have a drink before bed?"

The glass is placed back on the table with a thunk, before Elizabeth slides it slowly across the wood. "You don't approve?" she murmurs blandly, her face and eyes still unchanging. But he finally notices the tell tale signs that this was not her first sip: her cheeks and nose are slightly hued, her lips stained and her eyelids lidded.

He tries to focus on what he was planning to say when he got here; he had been thinking about how to explain himself since she had left after the notebook, hours ago. _But she won't look at him._

"I didn't mean that." He crouches down next to her chair, quiet for a moment as he stays there, looking over her face curiously. "What's wrong? Tell me," he tries again, something twisting in his gut as her eyes remain trained at the window. Then, finally, she turns her gaze to his, and he notes the sadness in her eyes and the slight blush to her cheeks. "We have to break this curse," she whispers, and the sentence strikes a chord within him, making his hearts race.

"What? That-" He stops, his expression closing off, as hidden as hers as they stare at each other for a long moment. "Don't worry," he murmurs. "I am going to find whoever did this, and then we will figure out how to stop this curse from-"

"No," she says, with finality.

Elizabeth pulls away from his hands, crossing the room in the next moment before Meliodas can stop her. She walks towards the cabinet, where his crown rest on top, and she looks down at it as her hands slowly, with care, pick it up. She shifts the crown between her fingers, tracing her fingers over the jewel encrusted edges, watching how the light of the lantern shines off the fine metal.

"Elizabeth…"

He watches her as she keeps her back turned to him, and she continues, "You need _her_ back, you need the queen here. Tristan and Jason, they need their mother. I understand that this- this is the future, the future I may have. But It's not _mine_. We... have to find a way to make this right, for all of you." Her voice is determined and insistent, and Meliodas feels a flash of irritation.

Why does she continue to insist that she is not his wife, not _Elizabeth?_ Yes, she is different from the queen he was married to; decades together with a kingdom to run and children to raise and everything else they had done, it had changed her, of course. Now, everything she says, what she does, brings back memories of their first years together, back in the Boar Hat. Being with Elizabeth now was so _familiar_. He had been reminded again of falling for her, her blushing and her easy smiles and the way she calls him Sir…

She is _his_ Elizabeth, no matter what she insists. And he is not losing her.

"Elizabeth," Meliodas says with a bit of frustration, slowly rising to stand, and she delicately places his crown back on the cabinet. "Merlin... She doesn't know what will happen even if we find a way to cut the rope, like the Great Leader suggested. This curse… She thinks you could disappear completely. You could even die, or something we can't even know." Elizabeth does not answer, so he goes to her and places a hand on her waist, standing right beside her. "Look at me."

She finally does, and he is surprised to see that her eyes are shining, but there are no tears that fall. "You're not leaving me. I'm not going to let that happen." His voice is determined, and Elizabeth briefly closes her eyes. But when she opens them, her gaze solid and firm. "You can't promise things like this, Sir Meliodas. You... don't know what will happen. You promised me we could run the tavern together, and then you sent me away. You promised me that everything was going to be fine, and then… then you died." Her breath catches.

Meliodas feels his stomach drop under her gaze. "You don't know this," he says gently, "but we've talked about that. We talked about all of that-"

" _We_ didn't talk about it. _We_ didn't talk about anything. There is still _so much_ \- so much I want to know, need to know…" She lifts her hands to his face, caressing his cheeks with her thumbs as her hands cup his skin. And suddenly he realizes what she is thinking as he leans his head against her touch: that _somewhere_ and _somewhen_ there is a Meliodas whose skin is cold from death. "Don't you understand? This isn't mine. _You_ aren't mine. These children and this title and this life… they don't belong to me, not yet. It would be wrong to just pretend that they did, no matter how much I want it to be real-"

"It _is_ real," Meliodas says wistfully, grabbing her wrists. His mind snaps back to Sir Cador. He had been adamant as well about this, to the point of violence in his demands that he wasn't supposed to be here, that he needed to return no matter what, that his children and his spouse weren't _his_ \- his words are all but mimicking Elizabeth.

Damn it. How much of this was the curse? How much was her actual suffering? Meliodas shakes his head in confusion, unsure where she ends and the symptoms begin.

"I'm here, I'm _right. Here_." He pulls her hands down to his chest, pressing her palms against him as she hesitantly looks down, his heart beating against her skin. "Can you feel that? I'm alive. I came back for you. I promised you I will always come back to you no matter where I go, _alive."_

"For me?" Elizabeth voice cracks as she shakes her head, trying to tug her hands from him, but he presses firmly, keeping them against his chest. "Yes, for _you_ ," he says, and he cannot help the edge to his voice as he continues, trying to stay light, "It's always, always been for you. Didn't I tell you that? _It's always been you_. How can I- how can I explain this?"

"You don't need to explain," she hurries to say as her fingers curl against him. "I just… I need to find a way to cut the rope and break this curse, and let everything go back to the way it was." They stare at each other for a moment, before Elizabeth's eyes glaze over, a thought flashing over them. Her voice is barely over a whisper, but firm as she squeezes her eyes closed, "You do what you must for love. Sacrifice is part of that. If love was easy… then everyone would have it."

Meliodas stares.

Hearing her talk of sacrifice… it makes his blood pound in his ears, his eyes dilating before he rears back as if she smacked him.

Sacrifice?

 _Sacrifice?_

She wishes to talk to _him_ about such a thing? Meliodas would give her anything, has never denied her _anything_ , and he tries to remember that she does not realize what she is _asking_ of him, before he can lose his temper; that she has no idea that what she just said is… _insane._ "But we do have it," he insists, heat instantaneously flooding his veins, his eyes wide and _staring,_ as he slides his hands up her arms to grip her elbows tightly. " _Damn it, Elizabeth_." His voice is so harsh she jerks, blinking rapidly as he pulls her closer, only inches between them now, "You can't say that. You keep saying that you don't belong here, but you do. We say we aren't your family, and we are. You belong with me. You are my wife. You are Eliza-"

" _I'm not-"_

"You _are!_ You are my wife. _I love you."_ His hands move up and down her arms, squeezing her as tightly as he dared without hurting her, and he feels his breathing quicken when she gasps, her entire face flushing brightly from his declaration. He hates the tinge of desperation that he can hear in his own voice, hates how he wants to _shake her_. He needs to be strong now, strong for her, _stronger than this damn curse,_ but all he feel is the urge to fall to his knees and beg her to stop all of this. To press his head into her chest and for her to just _listen_ to him- like she did in the midst of battles and in war and in frantic situations before, she just had to _trust him._ "You aren't here alone in the future. Let us help you. Let me _help_ you."

"What are you saying?" she whispers.

"I'm saying…" His anger is now gone, replaced with just the need for her to understand. "I'm saying that breaking the curse is hardly our only option. It's too much of a risk- it puts _you_ at too much of a risk. You are my wife. You are the queen. So just- just stay. Stay with me and be what you are meant to be."

Elizabeth's eyes are bright with tears as she cracks them open, her nose bright red and her lower lip trembling, "There is just... so much I don't understand," she whispers. "I don't know what to do. And Tristan and Jason… and Lynette…" She tries to pull away again but one of his hands moves to the back of her neck, drawing her closer, his fingers cradling against her as he keeps her steady. Meliodas searches her expression for any signs that she is drifting away again, that she is losing herself. But her eyes are steady, even with her face flushed, from the confessions, _from the overwhelming emotions,_ he doesn't know. "I don't understand why she kept this from you. Why didn't she tell you any of this? Why keep this a secret?"

Meliodas shakes his head. This question has haunted him all day, and he wishes he could assure her somehow. "I don't know," he murmurs.

"Neither do I," she says. "Don't you think that means that I don't belong here?" He stares at her, no answer to reassure her. "Maybe..." she continues softly, "Maybe it is time to let me go. All we have is the time that is given, and our time… our time is over, Sir Meliodas. Just like… just like my time, with my Meliodas, is over…"

"No," he says firmly, his fingers twisting into her hair. All of the playfulness inside him is gone, as the need to treat her gently is immediately replaced by a rising panic over what she is implying. "You don't understand. You don't even know what you are saying." Meliodas presses his lips onto her cheek, feeling her tremble under his touch. "I'm not letting you go that easily." His mouth trails along the line of her jaw, causing Elizabeth to gasp his name, but he doesn't care about anything in that moment but keeping her there; nothing but the need to make her understand the sacrifice she is asking of him.

"I can't just let you go," he murmurs, and then his mouth seals over hers, swallowing the gasp that bursts from her lips. He slides his arms around her, caressing her stomach as she twitches, pulling her flush against him, kissing her hard as she goes a bit weak. He can feel her knees tremble, her legs giving out, so he lifts her up with a quick squeak, and carries her to their bed.

He stares down at her as her back hits the soft blankets, her hair fanned out over the pillows, hearing her gasp _._ Her eyes are wide, her lips swollen and red and kissed thoroughly, and Meliodas climbs on top of her as quickly as he can, pressing down to kiss her fiercely, afraid that if he pulls back she might disappear. "Stay with me," he whispers against her mouth, breathing in as she shivers, knowing she can hear the desperation in his voice.

Elizabeth does not reply at first, her hands resting gently on his shoulders as she allows him to kiss her over and over, his thumb coming up to begin brushing over her chin, down her throat… teasing her until she is gasping and moaning. "Stay with me, Elizabeth," he says again, and her fingers dig into his taut muscles as he gently squeezes her breasts, his lips to her throat. Eventually she can't keep her hands still, her entire body squirming and rolling under him as her nails drag and dig down into his chest.

The feeling of her beginning to respond flips a switch inside of him, and one of his hands goes to make a tight grip in her hair, angling her head upwards as her chest heaves, while his other slides down her side, squeezing her until he has the hem of her dress up by her hips. He slips his fingers beneath her clothes, desire growing thick and hot as he pushes his hand to go forwards and drag up her skin, his fingers rubbing as he goes up her legs, up her stomach and then reach up to cup the tender fullness in his hand. He hears her gasp around the kiss and feels her move underneath him.

The surprising familiarity of this, the feeling of deja vu, hits him hard enough to still his hands and his mouth.

Meliodas pulls back, leaning his weight onto his legs that are bent at her waist, and he looks down at her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, how her chest rises and falls as she pants; and remembers that this is her _first time._ His eyes soften, as he remembers that she had made these same sounds the first time he had touched her like this, in what feels like a lifetime ago. He remembers how she had looked just as flushed, just as disheveled, his hearts thudding with the memory.

Wanting her badly, he hesitates, wondering if he should, if he even could. Then Elizabeth looks up with him with shining eyes, and he sees the familiar desire and love for him inside them. He remembers the tenderness they shared in the tub, how they had comforted each other after the terrifying attack in Camelot; then he thinks about the way she kissed him and moved against him after he had found her in Vaizel. Even the way she had turned towards him, not pulling away when he kissed her the first time, in the closet, next to her wedding dress… Meliodas knows that this is right, and he licks his lips.

He pulls his shirt over his head, yanking it up as he sits back onto his knees, his hair tousled and his gaze burning. "Elizabeth, stay with me," Meliodas asks again, their bodies pressing together as he leans back down, and to his delight and relief, she nods.

Elizabeth brings her hands up to his cheeks again, holding his face in a way she has done a hundred thousand times, and he groans as her mouth seals over his lips. Her tongue gently and nervously slides against his, and even though Elizabeth is shy with him, giggling in anticipation as they undress, she isn't resistant. His hands slide the sides of her dress from her shoulders, kissing a hot trail down her arms. He remembers this too, pulling her white dress down just like this on the night they were married, her hands chasing after him the same way, before he quickly comes back to kiss her deeply, determined to rid her mind of her doubt.

Despite the heaviness of this moment he cannot help his own smile, even blushing as she tentatively slips her hands over his body, caressing his muscles in curious lust. She is just _so sexy_ and he wanted her so badly, needed her to be here, that his fingers are quick to catch the sides of her panties, his tongue and lips quick to move down to suck and nip and bite at the skin of her collarbone. Her legs spread willingly, her thighs up as he slides the fabric over her knees, before pressing his hips to hers. Her skin is so warm, her red blush darkening where his mouth trails, caressing her and whispering mumbled words of love into her chest, all of it at once both new and achingly familiar.

Her reactions are the same, his hands sliding down her back to her rear, grabbing her cheeks and squeezing as he begins to roll his hips against her, wantonly grinding into her body under him. She groans incoherent sounds under the assault. It's the same sound, the same moan she always makes when he does this, but softer. In the years together she had grown bolder, and had no trouble voicing her pleasure; but this is like a whisper on his skin, just the way she did when they were first together.

"Oh, Meliodas _please_ ," Elizabeth cries out, her hips flexing, begging for more as her head rolls back, and he wrenches his mouth from her skin, pressing his head to her shoulder as he curses and then calls out her name. Her words send another rush of heat through him until he has to grind his teeth, the muscles in his arms tight. He pulls his head up to watch her, to memorize every line and curve of her, every inch of her skin, every subtle change in her face. This is his chance to have her all over again, on his terms this time, and he is determined to remember every blissful moment from this night on.

Meliodas watches her with a renewed fascination, positively in awe of the way she responds to his hand and his mouth and his voice. Had she always been so lovely? All these years they had spent together, more days and nights than he can count when their bodies had joined together and now he has the feeling as though it is _his_ first time as well, the first time he ever truly admired and worshipped and savored her. Finally, when the frustration becomes too much and his motions become jerky, he moves and guides himself between her legs. Slowly, gritting his teeth, he slides inside her, watching in amazement as she arches against him.

Her hands are pressed to his back as her body swallows him perfectly, and slowly he lowers his head to rest his forehead to her throat, steadying himself with his other hand which grabs the top of her thigh, and they fit together as if she had been made just for him. Meliodas moves his mouth over her body as he rocks in and out, going slow, wanting to prove to her that this is real and nothing else matters. His muscles clench, desperate to go faster, listening to her take deep breaths every time he slides slowly inside, and he wants to show her what they could have if she gives up this idea that she should not be here.

He wants her to understand that they belong here, right now, together.

Elizabeth presses her hands on his back, urging him on, and she cries out as they move together, faster. Meliodas knows just what to do, what to touch and what to tease to make her body sing. She is so vocal now, moaning and groaning… mumbling little words into his ear and he begins thrusting over and over again. He holds her as she crashes through the overwhelming waves of pleasure, his arms tightening around her body yet again as his face buried into her neck as she jerks with abandon, her nails digging into his skin- but does not stop. He relishes the taste of her, the sounds she makes, using his intimate knowledge of her to bring her to new heights again and again and _again_ , lifting and rolling his hips. Angling to hit that one spot inside her that drives her crazy, and he closes his eyes as her tremors mount, desperately riding him.

Slamming into her, he gasps as his muscles spasm, finding his own shuddering release deep inside of her body. The blood is pounding inside his head, his chest shuddering for breath, and Meliodas prays that he will never, ever forget how he feels in this moment, again.

It feels like hours later when their passion is finally sated, their bodies still wrapped around each other. Meliodas' chest is heaving, and he pulls her against him, his hands moving possessively over her back, not willing to give up their closeness even as she drifts in and out of sleep.

His hearts are still thudding inside his chest, and he can feel the hot tears threatening in the back of his throat. His hand turns to grip the sheet, pressing his face against hers, taking in long, deep breaths of her delicate scent. He had wanted to prove to her that she was his; instead, he knows deep down, all he managed to do was lose himself in her, again.

* * *

Two soldiers walk around the interior wall on the north side of the castle, not speaking. Their orders are to stay alert, look for suspicious activity, and raise the alarm the moment there is anything that looks like a threat. This had come from the Grand Master himself, and the Great Holy Knight Gilthunder had come to the briefing before rounds to deliver it to them. "Camelot has been attacked," he had warned them gravely, his fist clenched into the air. "Lioness may be next. The life of Queen Elizabeth is in your very hands!"

It was an inspiring speech, but now as they trudge past the food storage for the tenth time, it seems less and less likely that Lioness' _greatest_ threat is hiding among the barrels of potatoes. "Let's take a break," one says, but the other hesitates as he leans against his spear. "If the sergeant knows we stopped-"

"How's he gonna know?" asks the first, shrugging as he waves a hand. "Come on, let's find something to eat in here."

The kitchen is deserted except for one maid who is tending the large fire, but she does not pay them any mind as they slip through into the pantry. The cook often leaves leftovers and extras on a certain shelf for any of the overnight guardsmen, and they quickly tuck into some cheese and apples that neatly filled a basket.

As they head back through the kitchen, the second soldier gives a nod of thanks to the solitary kitchen girl, whose red cheeks turn even rosier as she quickly ducks away and back to her duties. He tosses an apple into the air with a grin, and is so busy trying to catch the little lady's eye that he nearly crashes into the other, who has come up short.

"Oof," he grunts, knocking against him, and stumbles a moment before gaining his footing. "What the hell?"

The first is peering across the kitchen, and the soldier follows his gaze into the shadowed corners. "What's that over there?" he asks the girl, pointing.

The girl jumps and looks over her shoulder. "It's the root cellar, sir," she says in a tiny voice.

"Huh," he answers. "You had better shut the door before the cook sees it hanging open."

The girl gasps and jumps to her feet, scurrying across the room as the two soldiers exit back into the night. But before they can continue on their rounds, a bloodcurdling scream pierces the night, and both men throw their goods to the side as they run back into the kitchen.

The girl is flying from the cellar, screaming, and throws herself face first into the arms of the second soldier, clutching him and sobbing, "Help me! Help me!"

"What is it?" he says, giving her a bit of a shake to snap her out of her hysterics, as the other draws his sword and stalks towards the cellar. "Probably a mouse," he grumbles, pulling the door open; but then he stumbles backwards with a shout.

The soldier pulls himself from the girl's grip and moves forward, halting when he reaches his companion. On the other side of the door, half hidden in shadow, is a man in a white coat. What _used_ to be a man, he supposes: its skin was shriveled away, the skull sunken in, the threadbare clothes hanging on little more than a skeleton for the body. Puffs of white hair stood out from the top of its head, and its mouth was open in a horrifying silent scream, stuck that way for all eternity.

But the soldier's deep shudder turned to a nightmarish horror as he looked in the sockets where the eyes should have been. Instead, it was filled with sand, as if its eyes had disintegrated, as if the body had been sitting in this spot for years and years.


	23. Time Runs Short

A/N: We have written so many chapters, this story is old enough to drink and sell its kidney legally. But we are also getting so close to the ending, and it is feeling bittersweet.

Leanna23: Thank you dude, you are awesome. Hopefully you like this one!

Lady Maico: OMG THAT IS SO TRUE. hehehehe, we are glad you enjoyed our Meliobeth lovin, as we have to slowly slide in some happiness into our neverending pain and suffering somewhere, right?

BettyBest2: That she did, that she did. They haven't really been able to catch a break this entire story.

Cerulean Grace: Maybe we should put the phone down when partying my love, but we are happy you loved it hahaha. Either that or stop publishing chapters on Saturday nights.

sassykitten1701: What can we say, we watch a lot of Law and Order.

MariannaBuBuLuBu: We think you are lovely!

fanficlove2014: We'll share a secret if you promise not to tell. Lynette wasn't even in our original outline, but the speculation around her got our own curiosities piqued, so we _had_ to put her in eventually. And we love how much you are reading into things and feeling conflicted, that's great to hear! P.S. we love a good titling too!

Vhosek: Foggy glasses, hm? Whatever do you mean? And sorry for the suspense, but we felt that Lynette needed to come in with a bang.

Chapter twenty three: Time Runs Short

* * *

The sound of pounding on the door pulls Meliodas out of a dream. His face is smushed into a pillow, and with a muffled grunt he cracks an eye open, seeing just a line of pale light in the window, which tells him it is just minutes until dawn. The pounding comes again, the sharp rapping against the wood more insistent and tugging him sharply from sleep.

"Mmmgg?" he grumbles into his pillow, still tangled around Elizabeth as he lifts his head, who is sound asleep, and he looks down with blurry eyes. Every muscle in his body is absolutely relaxed as he looks at her for a second, with a mixture of tenderness and satisfaction… followed by a twinge of regret as he carefully pulls his arms and legs away. She barely twitches, a breath passing through her lips before she snuggles into his fading warmth, and he quickly climbs out of bed, pulling a robe on and snatching a pair of boxers, tying it shut before opening the door a crack. "What is it?" he hisses out as his head pokes out into the hallway.

His eyes go upwards, meeting the concerned gaze of Gilthunder, who is in his full armor, an anxious shadow covering the upper part of his face. "Hey," Meliodas lets out a puff of air, a hand on his hip as the Great Holy Knight is quick to whisper, "I'm sorry," Gilthunder bows his head. "Something has happened, and I thought you'd want to take a look for yourself."

"It's fine. It comes with the job," Meliodas frowns. "So, what's wrong? It's gotta be something for the full stops." he steps out as he motions at Gilthunder's shiny armor plate, and pulls the door shut behind him, his toes wiggling on the cold stone beneath him as Gilthunder frowns deeply.

"The night guard found a dead body, in the northern kitchen stockroom. But there is something unusual about it." His voice is strained as he continues, a shadow still across his eyes, "I've never seen anything like it."

He looks at the Great Holy Knight in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. Gilthunder is a passionate man, but not easily shaken- well, not while on the job. They have been through tons together, and after everything, for him to say something like that? "Do you know who it is?" His still sleep muddled mind goes through all the worst case scenarios it can, preparing for it as the Great Holy Knight nods grimly.

"It's Bryant, the poor fellow."

Meliodas simply blinks at him, his face blank, and the knight offers, "I'm sure you've met him. He's been assisting the royal physician." He stresses the last part as the King finally perks up.

"Right! Bryant!" Meliodas huffs, remembering he had sent for the physician just the day before, and he quickly brings a hand up to ruffle his hair. "Just give me a couple minutes, I'll come." He slips back inside the bedroom, giving a quick glance towards Elizabeth, who is curled around a pillow, and he is pleased to see that she is still asleep. He silently heads to the bathroom to wash and dress, in and out as fast as he can, but before he leaves to join Gilthunder, Meliodas stops.

One more time he stops by the edge of the bed, to look down at his wife, and as gently as he can, he pulls the blanket up to cover her naked form that is peeking through. He sighs, thinking about the night they had shared together.

There had been hurt feelings and anxiety on both sides, but being together had worked as a salve to soothe the uncertainty; now he feels as though his emotions are stilled, his conviction to find a way around Elizabeth's curse renewed. He runs a hand over a few strands of silver hair spread over their pillows, gently and carefully twirling them into his fingers… before he leans down to gently press his lips to them in a brief kiss.

She had been right last night about one thing; this is the time he had been given, and he wouldn't let a moment go to waste. Not again.

After exiting the room he follows his long time friend through the slowly stirring castle, yawning loudly as he scratches his scalp. It was far too early, but the few servants or soldiers they pass still curtsey or bow for the king and the Grand Master, but as Gilthunder acknowledges each one, Meliodas can only nod or wave as he yawns and wipes away the sleep still clinging to his eyes.

"Where is it?" Meliodas finally mumbles, a hand in his pocket as they make their way down towards the kitchens, the lanterns still lit when they arrive. Gilthunder has the decency to look almost regretful as Meliodas wipes the rest of the sleep out of his eyes. Ban is there as they walk into the large room, grumbling about the hour to anyone who gets too close. "Bout time," he mutters to Meliodas as he approaches.

"What happened?" asks the king, ignoring his mood as the Sin of Greed hops up from one of the long tables, and shrugs.

"No idea. That's why I thought you'd want to see for yourself." Ban leads Meliodas through the door, not joking for once, and they leave Gilthunder outside to speak with another group of knights standing guard. They walk through the main part of the kitchen, Meliodas noting the staff standing around whispering to each other, and one rather inconsolable girl sobbing into a towel as the cook pats her stiffly on the back. All of the talk ceases when the king enters, everyone glancing at him nervously, and he nods grimly towards them as he walks by.

The two guards from the earlier rounds step up, both men somewhat anxious as Ban waves them over, and they give quick, short bows to the king before saluting Ban sharply. "Sire," one says tightly, "we found him about three hours ago. The kitchen maid over there, she had no idea he was even here."

"Neither did any of the staff," the other one adds.

"Good work," Meliodas steps around them, patting one twice on the shoulder, and walks through the doorway into the cellar.

Only to come up short, his eyes widening.

"Well," Meliodas says blandly, "that's not pleasant."

There, propped against the wall behind some barrels, sits one of the most gruesome corpses Meliodas could recall seeing in a while- and he had seen his share of corpses. Ban whistles behind him, and he steps closer in the limited light. "You're sure it's the doctor's assistant?" He ask as he tilts his head, the light casting shadows over the form on the floor, and Meliodas ignores the smell of decay.

"Pretty sure," Ban says as he stretches, and scratches an itch on his side. "He's been missing since yesterday. That's a physician's coat, and he had a pocket watch on him that belonged to the assistant. The doc himself found it when we brought him down to take a look at the body. Nearly gave him a heart attack." He gives a humorless laugh. "Old man practically passed out right on the floor."

The king crouches next to the body, taking a closer look. It seems almost like… "This is more than just a dead body," he says seriously, eyeing the rivers of sand coming out of its eye sockets. That was creepily strange. And he had seen some creepy and some strange things in his lifetime. "It looks like he's been dead for a year." He scans over the dried skin and the traces of hair on the top of the head, the sunken features and the sections of bone that are peeking through the decomposing tissue. "But we just saw him a few days ago… before we went to Camelot."

"That's one ugly dead guy," Ban swears.

Meliodas presses his mouth tightly together. Could this just be a coincidence? His death and the time of their own issues could have nothing to do with each other- he didn't know Bryant's life or his enemies. He wonders how this man could have ended up in this state… and does it have _anything_ to do with the attack on Camelot, at all? _Just one more mystery to solve_ , he thinks to himself, and, on a sudden impulse, he reaches out and pulls the body forward so that it tips down onto its face.

There, on the back of its neck, is not the rope marking he had expected to see. Instead, it is the strange shape that Jason had drawn on his picture, and that Elizabeth had sketched into her journal. He frowns heavily, his brows drawn down as he sees the two part mark more solidly; the lines were clearer and more pronounced, and the mark was the same color as the drawing, both brown and gold in color. It looked just like a hammer with a spiked side this time, there was no mistaking it.

"Where is Merlin?" Meliodas asks, straightening to stand, but then, as he leans the body back onto the wall, he has to pull his hands back in surprise as the skin he had grabbed crumbles under his fingertips, chunks crumbling and spilling down onto the floor as brownish sand. "Actually," he squeezes his hands into loose fists as he leans back on the balls of his feet, his mind racing, "where is everyone?"

"No idea about her," replies Ban as they watch the corpse continue to crumble, sand now flowing from under its clothes and it's mouth and eyes; the victim literally disintegrating in front of them as they watch. "Haven't seen her since we all got back. But~" Ban tilts his head, his eyes narrowing as the head detaches, flopping downwards over the newly made pile of sand and clothing, before it lands with a thunk on the ground. "I'll round up the others."

"Find them," Meliodas orders as he stares over at the head as it rolls to the side, the marking still there and just as clear, and Ban turns to call over the rest of the guard waiting instructions.

* * *

Elizabeth wakes up to find herself curled around a giant pillow, absolutely warm.

She reaches her arms up over her head for a deep, satisfying stretch, a small squeak leaving her lips. She stretches as far as she can, the slight burn feeling _amazing_ as her body feels absolutely relaxed, almost heavy, her toes curling into the plush sheets under her. She sighs as she rolls onto her back, her arms around the pillow she holds snuggly to her chest, and she nuzzles her cheek into it. Her eyes flutter all the way open with another sigh, to see daylight dancing across the ceiling. The curtains in the balcony sway slightly in a small breeze, and even though the room was chilly she is so _warm._

 _Meliodas…_ She breaths in, squeezing the pillow tightly once more before she pulls back the blankets and goes to sit up.

All at once she realizes she is completely naked. She bolts upright in bed with a gasp, her face flushing, and her eyes sweep the room for any sign of Meliodas. But the grand bedroom is empty, quiet and silently peaceful, and there is no sign of the king. Elizabeth feels a twinge of disappointment even as she sinks back into the mattress, her cheeks a brilliant pink as her hands wring the blanket between her fingers tightly, her eyes darting downwards.

Oh- _oh dear._ There are- there are _marks._ She brings her fingers up to trace her skin as her pulse beats faster. They don't hurt, the little red nips and bites and raised marks where he had- had _kissed_ her skin- stain her collarbone and chest, and her cheeks burn with the sight. Her ears start to ring as she feels like she's ready to burst, as she finds more going lower and lower and _lower._ She squeaks.

The night before comes roaring back to her mind as Elizabeth breathes deeply to steady herself, her hands covering both of her cheeks as her face combusts. _Married married married_ , she chants to herself, as the images of Meliodas on top of her are revealed in vivid clarity. She can feel his hands caressing every part of her body, hear his moans and the lovely words he whispered, even still taste the saltiness of his skin and his mouth as they had kissed each other all over….

Quickly Elizabeth grabs a pillow from behind her, thankful no one is there to see as she slams it over her face and screams, loudly and for a long time, before flopping backwards onto the bed. It was an experience that she could have never expected, not in a thousand lifetimes, not in her wildest more obscene imagination; and the satisfied soreness deep in her core is enough evidence that she had enjoyed every blissful moment of it.

However…

She cracks her eyes open, looking up at the ceiling and squeezes the pillow in a death hold. However, there is a part of her that still feels a twinge of- of _something_ that burns suspiciously like guilt. It's a small insistent sliver that shoots deep into her chest, that something is just not right deep within her heart. She wants this life, yes, she is certain of that. She wants to be a mother. She wants to stay with Tristan and go on more journeys across Britannia with him, she wants to hold Jason and carry him around and eat more breakfast together, she wants to meet Lynette, who looks just like her, but is so _strong._

She wants Meliodas. Oh, did she want to keep _him._ The decision had been made, and they will now work towards finding who did this and stopping them from hurting anyone else. But the mystery of why _she_ had been chosen for this curse still nags at her in the back of her mind, over and over again the question of where in time this Queen Elizabeth could be, where she had been snatched up and dropped, circling her head.

Is she suffering? Did she wake up confused, in the Boar Hat, twenty-five years ago? Or was she alone, with the corpse of her husband next to her in a barren wasteland?

That thought alone sends a chill down her spine, and Elizabeth feels a sudden new resolve. She cannot let go of breaking this curse, not yet, not until she finds some real answers about what happened to the queen. She hadn't _lied_ to Meliodas last night, not quite. But she can not just sit here in this peaceful, content future that was crafted by this woman's hands, see everything she had put into this family with her love and care, and do nothing. If there really was nothing further she could do then… then…

Elizabeth's hands squeezes the pillow one last time, before she takes a deep breath. If she really was gone and couldn't be saved, Elizabeth would do her best to stay, here, with Meliodas.

So without anymore delay she is up, washing and dressing and fixing her hair in just minutes. As she quickly goes about her routine she spies the little love marks on her body again, and as her stomach flutters with the memory, suddenly a terrible, _horrible_ thought fills her. What if… Meliodas only loves her because she reminds him of the queen? She wonders again when it happens, what she does or says that makes him fall in love with her. He never told her how they came to finally be together, or when he asked her to marry him, or the first time they- or more like when it was his first time with _her_ …

It's so terribly confusing, and Elizabeth takes a slow, deep breath to calm herself. _It doesn't matter_. There will be time to figure all of that out, once… well once she has figured all this out.

As she reaches for the doorknob, she pauses, wondering where she should go first. Meliodas is obviously out; he made his feelings clear, and he and the other Sins have no clues to go on. Diane? No no… she was her close friend, yes, but... There are a limited number of sorcerers in Lioness. Though she could try to ask the druid healers, but none of them are even half as powerful as-

 _Merlin!_

Suddenly Elizabeth knows where to go, where to find her, and after she slips on a wonderfully comfortable light gold dress that just happens to have a high collar to hide the- the- _the marks_ , that barely scrapes the ground as she walks, she is off and hurrying through corridors and up and down the familiar stairs and passages. The castle is waking up with her, and as she passes by copious amounts of maids and servant, already fully into their routine, she smiles and waves cheerful good mornings to dozens of smiling staff as they greet her in turn. Finally, she has made her way to the other side of her home, until she comes to a little hallway far off in the west side tower, and there is a long passage with a lantern at the ending. The walls are strangely bare, nothing but a large painted door she could not recall ever seeing before at the end.

Hesitantly she approaches, looking down at the bronze door handle, before she glances up at the wickedly appearing gargoyle knocker in the middle, and she gives it a soft knock that raps against the door.

"Come in," the mage's voice calls through the wood cheerfully, and with the last ounce of caution Elizabeth opens it and steps inside.

She freezes for a moment, the door closing behind her, and she is amazed to find herself in an exact replica of Merlin's workshop in Camelot. Elizabeth's eyes slide over the books and jars and scrolls and cages and chests and shelves and- and- and _things_ everywhere. The ceiling seem too high and her head twirls around as she sees heads of strange creatures in large tubes, a line of crystals against the wall, and strange artifacts on the tables, and books upon books upon books on a bookcase that had a wooden ladder next to it… which went up and up and _up._ Until Elizabeth was leaning back so far that she almost falls backwards, her back straining. "Lady Merlin?" she speaks up, her voice traveling over the rooms possessions, as she passes a table with arm and leg restraints on it, a table full of scientific-looking material, and she notices a row of… frowning masks, scowling up at her inside of a series of test tubes on a desk?

"Back here." Elizabeth follows her voice through the room- which absolutely should not have been this size- until she steps down a small landing, and comes upon the Boar Sin sitting at a long table, not unlike the one Jason had sat upon as he described his dream of Vaizel, the entire thing covered in a mound of scrolls.

"Lady Merlin," she says softly, a bit intimidated by the smiling woman as her golden gaze peers over at her with a sly-like smile. "I'm so sorry if I'm interrupting."

"No, not at all," answers Merlin, gesturing for her to sit as she rolls up the scroll and with a flick of her finger it flies back to the very top of the pile. "I always have time for you, Your Grace."

Elizabeth nods as she takes her seat, folding her hands in her laps. It still feels a bit unreal to her people give her that title, and Merlin just seemed to enjoy calling her by it more than anyone else. "I didn't realize you had a workshop here in Lioness," she comments, her eyes still exploring the magical wonderland-like room she has walked into.

Merlin chuckles. "I didn't until yesterday. I did most of my research and experiments in Camelot, but unfortunately, that's all gone now." She sighs sadly and Elizabeth begins to offer her consolations, but the mage waves her off and continues, "No, no, it's fine. I didn't keep anything truly important in Britannia, anyway. But it certainly is a great inconvenience," she huffs. "There was much that will need replacing. And some of my books- well, they simply don't exist any more."

Not quite following, Elizabeth simply nods before asking, "You- you managed to build this yesterday?" she peers behind her back at _everything._

"Not that hard once you've already done it," Merlin answers cryptically. "Still though- what a terrible waste. I simply despise waste. It makes no sense to me why whoever attacked Camelot couldn't just blow up the East side of the castle," she starts grumbling under her breath, and Elizabeth laughs nervously before Merlin shouts, "But that's enough about me!" Elizabeth jumps as she turns back to her. "What is it I can do for you, my dear? It must be terribly important if you managed around my spell."

"Your… spell?" she asks in wonder.

Merlin nods, her hand waving around the air. "I had a spell on this room, so that I would not be disturbed. No one can find me, let alone the door, unless it is a true emergency, and the seeker can only ask for me." She tilts her head. "And here you are. So what emergency brought you to my workshop?"

"Really? That's-" Elizabeth clears her throat, drawing back from her excitement for all thing's magic, and she shifts in her chair with jittery energy until the chair legs creak. "I was hoping, lady Merlin, to get your- your opinion. On the curse." Elizabeth is nibbling harshly on her lower lip as she whispers out the last part, and Merlin arches an eyebrow as she continues, "Sir Meliodas does not want to break it, because there is a risk that I could… that I would not… survive." she swallows slowly, as she wrings her hands in her lap, "That there is no guarantee what may happen at all. Do you think that is the case? Will breaking the curse kill me?"

A finger taps thoughtfully as the mage contemplates. "I cannot give an answer to that," she finally says. "The magic that has made this curse is something I've never encountered, which tells me that it is ancient."

"Ancient?" Elizabeth doesn't know for sure, but, that does not sound like good news.

"Yes. Something perhaps from before Britannia began…" Her voice fades as Elizabeth gasps, and watches expectantly, not sure about what to say as Merlin stands.

A finger taps on her red colored lips as she walks up the stairs, slowly taking her time in thought as she absentmindedly flicks on a set of burners that were on a table to her side. The series of test tubes quickly begin to bubble under the blue flame, the strange masks insides frowning and moving around, their mouths moving without sound. It would have been quite a disturbing sight, had Elizabeth been given a chance to think about it, but suddenly Merlin spins around, peering at her closely from above.

Elizabeth can feel heat beginning to rise up her cheeks as the sorceress' smile curls up her face, until thankfully she continues, "You Highness, would you mind terribly if I took a look?"

"A look?" she echoes, before she jerks upwards, sitting straight. "Oh, you mean-" Her hand goes to the back of her neck, and Merlin nods with a smile. "I- I suppose- yes, yes of course," Elizabeth stammers, her heart suddenly beating faster, her hands clammy as her fingers curl on her skin. She trusts that Merlin would not hurt her, but still… the way she had looked at her just now, as if she is one of the strange items in one of the strange jars that littered the room or even the still slightly smoking test tubes; it does not help to ease the way her hands twist together.

Merlin sweeps behind her eagerly, and Elizabeth quickly pulls her hair forward. Gentle fingers guide her head down, until her chin hits her chest, and she takes a shaky breath. "Just relax," Merlin murmurs behind her, and then a fingertip slides down the back of her neck, and what feels like static electricity scratches her skin.

"I wonder if…" Merlin whispers, and the finger on her neck begin to move up and down. Elizabeth cannot detect a pattern, but then the skin on her neck feels as though it is twisting, pulling and pulling like it's being sucked inwards. It's not painful, not exactly, but startling enough to make her gasp. "How interesting." her voice calls over her shoulder, as Elizabeth can't stop herself from flinching, drawing away.

"Do you see something?" Elizabeth's voice is strained, and then the twisting stops as the finger is lifted from her skin.

Elizabeth takes in a steadying breath before the mage is patting her on the shoulder, "Perhaps," Merlin states, coming back around to sit at the table. Her eyes are closed, her finger tapping as she folds her arms in thought, and then she opens a small book and makes a note, the soft sounds of the pen on the paper the only thing between them in the enormous room, before she is smiling back up at Elizabeth. "It's still unclear why this was done, and who did it, but I may have figured out how to break the curse."

"Really?" Elizabeth can barely hold in her elation at the news, excited as she leans forward eagerly, placing her palms on the table. "Could we really- I mean, could you?"

"I think it's possible," she shrugs her shoulders. "You felt when I was moving the rope, didn't you?" Her smile doesn't change as Elizabeth nods. "It's a symbol, certainly, where the spell is attached to you. But it's interesting because it behaves just like a real rope."

Elizabeth frowns. "What does that mean?"

"What it means, is that we can cut the rope," Merlin chuckles, swirling her hand around. "Do you remember what The Great Leader called it, how he described the curse while we were there? He was being literal when he suggested how to go about dealing with it. I thought he was just being dramatic. We can cut it, or burn it, or tear it apart- just like any other real rope." Elizabeth stares at her as Merlin smiles widely, "This _rope_ just happens to be around your neck in the form of a cursed noose."

"But how?" Elizabeth wonders.

"That's the trick of it," Merlin agrees. "It may be a rope, but the power that made it has created a rope that is thousands upon thousands of times stronger than a real rope made of thread or chains. Which means if we wish to cut it, we need a knife that is thousands upon thousands of times stronger than a real knife." She pauses, scribbling something down quickly, and looks up again. "I suppose this is not helpful, however, since you are _not_ interested in breaking the curse?"

"Well- I, I-" Elizabeth swallows, unsure of what to say. "I don't know. It is neither a yes or no, until we know what will happen afterwards." she confesses. "Sir Meliodas is so dead set against it. But I can't help but worry. I'm afraid."

Merlin nods. "It's certainly understandable. This curse could erase your memories, or even kill you-"

"No," she interrupts softly, but her voice is determined, "I don't mean for _myself_ , I'm afraid for the queen. There is no telling what happened to her. It must be terrible for her, to be so far away from her family."

She meets Merlin's gaze, and shrinks a bit under her smile, because her eyes were dissecting her with eager interest. "How very interesting," Merlin says, opening her notebook to a new page. "You speak of the queen as if she is another person, when she is actually _you_."

"I suppose that's true. One day I will be her." answers Elizabeth with a deep blush. "As strange as that seems to me right now, but- but if this is the future I will have..." She looks around, before her eyes softens, "It isn't a terrible future, not at all. Do you still think it's very strange?"

"Well, considering that no one else has ever experienced what you have, your reaction is the standard, so it is perfectly normal for what it is."

It's not an assurance, not exactly, but Elizabeth feels relieved anyway. There is a silence in the room, as she watches Merlin make several more notes in her book. "Lady Merlin," Elizabeth finally says quietly, "is there any hope at all?"

"Hope?" Merlin says, looking up at her with a puzzled expression. "I'm not sure I understand your meaning."

Elizabeth chews on her lip for a moment before continuing slowly, "Sir Meliodas does not want to lose me, and won't risk breaking the curse. We have spoken of me- of me staying here with him. I want to know that it's the right thing to do. I don't want to give all of this up… But I can't help but feel that I should." Merlin arches an eyebrow as Elizabeth rushes on, "How can I live here, be happy here, always wondering if she- me- is out there somewhere? How can I look at Sir Meliodas and tell him to stay with me when his wife could be somewhere waiting for him, not giving up hope herself. Or-?" She huffs suddenly. "It's all so confusing. Sir Meliodas l-loves me, he told me so, and I know that losing her- _me_ \- would hurt him terribly. Can I really do this to him? Can I break this curse, knowing that he might lose the person he loves? I could be condemning them both to losing each other." She looks at Merlin pleadingly. "Lady Merlin, if it was you, what would you do?"

Merlin regards her for a long moment. "To be honest, Your Grace," she finally responds, "I simply don't know." Elizabeth sags for a moment with a small "oh", but then Merlin continues, "This isn't exactly my area of expertise."

Elizabeth looks up at her in surprise. "I'm so sorry, I thought-I hoped that maybe now that you would know more about the curse, now that the journal was found..."

The mage waves her hand. "Of course I know about the curse. I know a great _deal_ about the curse, except for who is doing it, what will happen once we break it, and why it is _there._ I even demonstrated to you minutes ago that we could release you from its hold, with the proper instruments, if you wished." Her tone sounds a bit affronted, and Elizabeth blinks at her in confusion. "But that isn't what you are asking me, is it? You want me to tell you the right decision to make. Well that I cannot do. I study magic, my dear," a wary smile graces Merlin's lips, as she looks at Elizabeth, "Not love."

Heat flashes up the back of her neck, and Elizabeth bites her lip in embarrassment as one of her hands come up to cover a burning ear. Of course, she should not have been so foolish as to think Merlin could give her this answer on something that really wasn't anyone else's choice to make.

This choice, whether to stay or to go, is hers and hers alone.

She sucks in a deep breath, holding it in as she steadies herself, and she can feel Merlin watching her as she just takes the moment to simply _think._

She had promised Meliodas she would stay with him, and she is going to give her all to do just that. No more weeping, no more pretending death is her only option. She isn't going to give up… if the Queen could be somewhere, alone, and fighting her way to get back. If there is a chance that her future self still held out hope for returning, hope in seeing Meliodas again, then she would make sure that the choices she was going to have to make, whichever it turned out to be, would be what was best for Meliodas and herself, _and the Queen._

* * *

Tristan is awake all of a sudden, and before he can even open his eyes, he knows someone is staring at him. He's lying on his side, an arm under his pillow and he's suddenly being pulled out of a dream he can't remember, as he feels two holes being bored into his head. The hairs on his arm stand up as the feeling is so strong, he is _sure_ it's Lancelot wanting to bother him about something. Yet to his surprise, when he cracks one eye open he sees Jason, his giant green eyes only a few inches from his own.

He jumps a bit in surprise, flinching under the blanket as his eyes pop open- but thankfully he manages to stop himself from giving a shout.

"Hey there, Jason," he croaks, whispering in the dark as he stretches a bit before rolling over. Jason is standing _right_ next to the bed, in an oversized shirt that's hanging off him and a small frown on his face, and Tristan brings a hand up to cover his own, blowing out a hot breath. He and Lancelot had taken the third floor bedroom, Tristan in the bed and Lancelot taking the hammock by the balcony, while Lynette stayed with their little brother on the second floor.

"Okay, right," Tristan whispers, reaching out a hand to land on Jason's head, ruffling his hair absentmindedly as he yawns, loudly, before he looks over at the future fairy king, still snoozing at the window. He turns back, to the little boy who is staring at him wide-eyed. "You okay bud?" he asks, sitting up on his elbows. "Where's Lynette?"

Jason pouts, before he reaches up and removes Tristan's hand from his head, and climbs up on to the bed. He leans up against him and clutching his stuffed pig tightly; to his annoyance, the ugly beast of a cat is there too. It also jumps up onto the bed, the blankets squishing down under its weight as it takes delicate steps and makes itself comfortable in a nice little spot, on his knees, as Jason all but sits on top of his waist. The two brothers look at each other expectantly for a moment, and then Tristan slides up into a sitting position, Myrtle yodeling at his _nerve_ for disturbing its comfortable peace as it glares up at him. "Is there something wrong?" he tries, as he searches the younger boy's face.

His stomach flips when his younger brother's face crumbles, and Tristan sees fear in his eyes. Jason's lower lip trembles a bit, and Tristan reaches out and musses his hair. "What's wrong? I can't help you unless you tell me." he says softly, calmly as he lets Jason see how much he wants to help on his face. He ruffles his hair again, ruffling it by his ears before moving downwards to squeeze his shoulders reassuringly.

All at once Jason leaps into his chest, pressing his forehead against his shoulder and squeezing with everything he has, his arms curling around his body. His fingers claw into his thin sleeping shirt as the pig toy is smushed between them, and Tristan is beyond confused before he says without even thinking, "Did you have a bad dream?"

When Jason nods his head, he is instantly seized with dread. And his face must had shown _something,_ because suddenly Jason is moving back, turning to crawl away.

"Hey," he says, pulling the boy back onto his lap. The cat yowls in protest as Tristan pulls his legs up so he can position his brother to look at him closer. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Jason nods solemnly. Tristan sits there for a moment, his hands clenching briefly around Jason's shoulders, unable to say anything, until he says, "Was it… blue?" Tristan whispers slowly, the tide of emotions kept closely in check.

Again, Jason nods, and Tristan's fingers grip him in a squeezing hold. "Okay," he breathes, trying to think of what to do. "Okay, that's- this is fine. We're fine. You always told mom about them, right? Can you tell me now?"

His brother only looks at him expectantly, his eyes blank, and when he shrugs Tristan tries to decide what to do. "Was it one you had before?" he goes over the list of questions in rapid fire in his mind, quickly deciding the ones he _can ask,_ without revealing too much to his little brother about the situation.

Jason shakes his head no as Tristan gathers himself. "Was it about someone you know?" When he nods again, Tristan asks carefully, hoping not to upset him. "Who… who was it about?"

His stomach positively drops…. when Jason raises a finger and points directly at him.

"Me?" Tristan whispers, his voice shaking at the end. "It was about _me?"_ Jason nods, smiling a bit now, clearly happy that Tristan had been able to guess, his eyes shining, and Tristan clamps his mouth shut with a snap, a small smile forming as he _screams in his head_ to keep himself from feeling any panic. "Okay. Okay. I need to know what it was about. I need you to tell me _everything_."

But he remains stubbornly silent, his lip quivering a bit again, and Jason pulls the pig up to his face to hide behind it as he pouts up at him, like he was asking him to do something against the rules. And Tristan clenches his fists a few times before turning towards the window. "Lancelot?" Tristan calls, raising his voice even as he tries to keep it sounding calm. "Hey, Lancelot, get up," he says loudly, scowling when the pile of linens barely twitch.

"Hrrrmmpherggg," is all the response he receives, a hand popping out of the blankets to wave in his general direction before flopping down like dead weight onto his pillow- and Tristan grabs a pillow from behind him and launches it at Lancelot, hitting him square in the middle of the lump.

"Whaaaaat?" Lancelot moans, tossing the pillow aside, which just happened to be through the window, the pillow falling out of view as it falls to the ground outside. "What time is it?" he grumbles, "Tell Ma… I'm… up."

"Lancelot, get up!" Tristan hisses.

"Don't wanna," he grumbles, rolling over in the hammock. He mumbles something incoherent over and over, the ending trailing off before a string of snores start in their place- Only for him to shout loudly when it's Tristan's boot this time that is tossed with _force_ , hitting him in the back of the head. "What the hell!" he yelps, squawking as he sits up too fast, flailing in the hammock and having to hold on to keep himself from falling out.

Jason giggles as Tristan huffs, Lancelot wild eyes snapping around the room, "Would you get up? Jason had another dream."

"So what?" Lancelot moans, exasperated as he flops back down, and he brings a hand up to rub the bump on the back of his head with a hiss.

"About _me_." Lancelot blinks, once, his face blank before suddenly he catches Tristan's meaning like it's punched him in his face, because he bolts upright in an instant, yelling, "He dreamed about YO-!?" His legs gets caught in the hammock, and he flips over backwards, slamming himself face first into the floor with a shout and a loud thump. His nose is crushed into his face as he says every curse in existence, and a few Tristan thinks he made up, and there's a scramble as he gets up to his feet; Jason now giggling furiously at him.

Tristan watches him in annoyance as Lancelot crawls over to the bed, his hand over his nose, his entire forehead glowing red in the dark from the impact. "He dreamt about you? Really?" He looks at Jason with wide eyes, rubbing desperately at his face before he jumps up, sitting up straight, "The blue ones, right?" The boy nods happily and Lancelot hisses, before slumping over with a heavy sigh. "Damn, Tristan." he sets a heavy hand onto Tristan's shoulder, their eyes meeting, "It was nice knowing you."

"Is that supposed to help?" Tristan growls, reaching out to give him a hard shove, and the two spend a moment pushing each other. "Why do I even _bother_?"

"Alright, alright, Ok. Not the right time to joke," Lancelot says quickly, blowing out a puff of air before he pats down his clothes, gathering himself, "Got it." He waves his hands to push Tristan off of him before he turns back to Jason, who is watching them both with clear amusement. "Are you still not talking? Cause we really, really really need to know what you dreamed about."

Jason stares at him, a moment of silence going by.

"Really really." Lancelot says again, his voice straining, "Really."

Jason chews on his lip nervously, and Lancelot sighs, bringing a hand up to go down his face in exasperation. "Okay. How about… can you draw it? Do we have any paper?"

"They don't keep art supplies in the Boar Hat," says Tristan, letting his agitation show.

"Yea, okay," Lancelot nods. "Alright, Jason. Here's what we're going to do." He grabs up the green pig and says, "See this? Let's pretend this is Tristan. It even sounds like him! _Puuuugooo, puuuuggooo!"_ Lancelot makes a funny faces as he imitates the animal sounds, and Jason laughs. "Yup, that's what he sounds like all right."

"Very funny," Tristan says, nudging Jason, who covers his smile with a hand.

"So what was Tristan doing in the dream? Was he dancing?" Lancelot shakes the toy back and forth, and Jason giggles again and shakes his head. "Hmm.. was he.. Flying?" The pig goes swooping around, and again Jason shakes his head no. "Was he… pretending to be a hat?" Lancelot balances the toy on his head, until he does a very elaborately fake sneeze and sends it flying at Jason. The boy laughs even harder and hugs the animal close.

"Well I give up," Lancelot says. "What did he do?"

Jason pauses for a minute, and then he positions the pig in his lap. Then he takes the pig's front two legs and holds them up to cover its eyes. Jason looks up at them both expectantly, and the two older boys exchange a look. "Is he hiding?" Lancelot asks.

He shakes his head, and then Tristan asks through the lump in his throat, "Am I crying?"

Nodding eagerly, Jason grins at them both. "Why was I crying?" Tristan asks.

The boy performs an elaborate, silent show with the pig, swaying the pig before it dances over the blanket, but neither of them can decipher his meaning as he keeps going. "We're never going to figure this out," Tristan mutters, eyeing Lancelot in the corner of his eye as the other man frowns, clearly watching Jason's show closely.

"Were there other people there?" Lancelot asks. "Was I there?" Jason thinks for a moment before shaking his head. "How about your mom and dad?"

He nods eagerly and Tristan continues, "What about Lynette?" Jason pauses, and nods again. "How about you? Were you there?"

Jason shakes his head and points to his stomach, and Tristan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Well, this is impossible."

"Yeah, but we have _something_ to go on," Lancelot says. "If everyone was there but Jason, that means he probably wasn't born yet. It's something from when you were a kid."

"But why would I be crying?" Tristan wonders, his face scrunching up as he thinks, and he comes up with nothing.

Lancelot laughs, so hard he snorts. "Are you kidding me? You were the worst crybaby _ever."_ He snatches the pig up and holds its arms over its eyes just the way Jason had. "Boo hoo, I'm Tristan. Boo hoo, I fell down. Boo hoo, my sister beat me up. Boo hoo hoo hoo!"

He and Jason erupt into laughter, and Tristan kicks him in the thigh, Lancelot still howling with laughter as he topples to the side. "You're a jackass," he says, trying not to smile, when they suddenly hear shouting from downstairs. "Jason! Jason, where are you?!"

"Up here!" Tristan calls. Footsteps quickly pound up the stairs, and then Lynette appears in the doorway, her socks sliding on the floor and her hair sticking up in every direction, and her face is flushed as her eyes zero in on the youngest occupant. "Jason, thank goodness," she breathes, going to the bed and scooping him up in a large hug. "I was so worried. I thought you were gone." She pulls back just enough to pout at her little brother, her forehead against his, "You can't just _run off_ on your own like that. Mom and dad would _kill_ us if you got kidnapped or something terrible happened Jason."

Jason happily clings to her neck, and she swings him around as he giggles, kicking his legs back and forth before she flops over, taking a seat on the bed with a relieved puff of air. They bounce on the bed as she squeezes him close, before she sends the two of them a suspicious glance. "What are you all doing up here anyway?"

"Jason had a blue dream," Tristan responds almost despondent, his voice and face carefully controlled. "It was about me."

"Blue dream?" Lynette frowns and looks at the little boy, who is leaning across her lap to grab up his cat, gold eyes glowing in the still dark room. "What does that mean?" she asks as she pats Myrtle on the head.

"It means," Lancelot says seriously, his eyes narrowed before he leans in, "Tristan is..." He glances at Jason. "He's going to be just like the queen, if you catch my drift." He whispers the last part, covering the side of his mouth with his hand so Jason can't see his lips move.

She gasps and looks at her older brother, the color quickly draining from her face as her eyes dart around his face- as though she was already looking for signs of this alleged curse. The three of them exchange a look, and Tristan can see the deep concern and fear that he was still not used to in her eyes… and the strange unusual way Lancelot was regarding Lynette… but he can't help but feel a bit reassured knowing she is so flustered.

He feels as if he has been floundering this entire time, as terrible as that seems to admit; supporting his mother and handling his anger and trying to control _whatever_ was happening with his power and the whole Vaizel and- and- _Tamise_ _debacle_ , and trying to be strong for Jason… he could go on and on for quite a bit. And now to see Lynette who doesn't get flustered by _anything_ to be scared alongside him, he knows he's not alone, he's not the only one who is confused and afraid and…

"Well what are we waiting for?" she says, jumping up and startling him out of his thoughts. His eyes go round as she stands up straight, "Let's go home and find Mom and Dad. Then we need to find who is doing this so I can run my foot right up his ass!" she roars, throwing out a closed fist like she was already hitting someone.

Okay, so he was a bit off in reading Lynette's mood.

Lancelot whoops and jumps up, hurrying over to their bags to get some clothes to change into, and even Jason laughs and hops off the bed, carrying the cat as he hurries towards the door. Tristan smiles as Lynette grins back at him reassuringly, but inside his stomach is churning. He's not sure which is more afraid of: facing this threat, now that he is the next target, or going home and breaking the news to his father.

He doesn't have much time to think anymore, as Lancelot throws a pair of pants at his face so hard, he falls back on the bed.


	24. Stealing Life Away

A/N: It's Lickitysplit here, filling in on note duties once again since Woundedowl has taken to her bed. This chapter was very difficult for us. Keep reading and you'll see why.

PS: Many people do not know this, but Woundedowl is an amazing artist, and has started a series of drawings about this story. You can check them out on tumblr under timethatisgiven dot tumblr dot com!

Sassykitten1701: Hereherehereherehere

BettyBest2: I already told you that Tristan comment made me laugh. :D Yes, good outcomes. Soon. Yes. I'm sure that will happen.

CaptainTwiggy0918: So many jerks exist to have blue dreams about, it's so hard to narrow it down to one. You can certainly side with Meliodas; both of them are right, and both are wrong, and it's a difficult decision that I know I wouldn't want to make.

Hiyomi: I'm glad you liked Elizabeth's point of view. The whereabouts of Queen Elizabeth has been heavy on my mind too.

Chapter twenty four: Stealing Life Away

* * *

Riding on horseback is one of Jason's absolute most favorite things to do. Second, maybe only to broccoli- he _loves_ broccoli.

He knows that he wasn't as fast or as strong, or as tough or as loud as some of the other kids who play around the castle. He can keep up with the sons and daughters of the Holy Knights and noblemen of Lioness, yes, but he knows he isn't as big, that he likes things they would find _boring._ But he _is_ good at his studies, and likes art and math the best, and can count all the way to 100, which his tutor in Camelot had said was impressive. He loves to sit down and go through pages and pages of books, or maps or scripts- anything that taught him about whatever he could find; and while Tristan took him fishing sometimes, before he left for his Holy Knight training, and Lynette had been showing him how to use a bow and arrow, before she left for _her_ Holy Knight training, he could sit at his desk with Myrtle and his Mom and his Dad and just _read_ , all day, or night, even through meal times.

Now that it's just him and his brother Lancelot- who wasn't _really_ his brother but he _was_ \- Lancelot always takes him outside when mom wasn't looking, sneaking around nannies and Knights, and they would find the best trees to climb, or where the weirdest stores and people lived, or find the _best_ places to hide in. Plus, he was teaching him some of the really best dirty words he could ever think of. But, even _he_ had to go to that magic forest sometimes so he can learn to be a king when he got older.

But the one thing that Jason can do all by himself, without any help, was ride a horse. And he _loves_ riding them.

So when they prepare to leave the Boar Hat for their home in the castle, Jason is absolutely delighted to see the animals patiently waiting in the clearing by their tavern, tied to a post. Lancelot picks Jason to ride with him, since there are only three horses, and the boy is quick to start petting the speckled gray mare that nicks and huffs under his hand. Myrtle doesn't seem to like them too much, but he _loves_ them. "You're way better than I am at this, being half-fairy and all," Lancelot says with a laugh, and Jason grins.

He's still too short to hoist himself up, so Lancelot gives him a hand, using enough force to throw him over the top, before swinging himself up behind him. "You wanna steer?" Lancelot says as he passes over the reins, and Jason eagerly nods and takes them, his hands confident on the straps as he squeezes his legs against the animal to steady himself. Lancelot yawns loudly right behind him, before his chin plops down onto Jason's head; then they are off at a steady pace over the smooth path that leads from the tavern to the walls of the city. They slip down the road at a steady pace, passing through the gates and greet the welcoming guards, and inside they ride through the familiar streets of Lioness. Jason expertly guides the horse, following Tristan and Lynette while bringing up the rear.

The streets are just beginning to come to life as the sky burns with the sunrise, just barely peeking over the horizon, as they carefully make their way past. The energy of the opening marketplace is thrilling, stall doors being propped open as villagers with baskets of products pass in groups around them. The shops start to open and children start to turn out into the streets for school. Mom had said that there was a village school, but Jason has never gone, only using royal tutors, and he had always been burning to see what that place was like.

His attention snaps back when they reach the front gate of the castle, as they are forced to stop, because for some reason it is closed.

Tristan and Lynette ride up a few more paces to speak with the guard, and within moments the sound of the gate grinding open fills the air. Then, as they are waiting, he feels Lancelot lean down towards his ear. "Hey Jason," he says quietly, "I have a job for you today."

The boy looks over his shoulder expectantly, his eyes huge. Usually people aren't asking _him_ to be in charge of things, especially with his older siblings around- and he _barely_ catches himself when his mouth open to ask him if he really means it- before his mouth snaps shut with a click as Lancelot continues. "I don't think Tristan is feeling well today," Lancelot says, his eyes steady on the prince ahead. "I want you to stay right by his side, and not leave him for _anything_ , okay? If he starts barfing everywhere, he's going to need you to heal him really quick." Jason groans and he laughs, bringing a hand up to pat the younger boy on he shoulder. "And if _he_ starts barfing, then _I'll_ start barfing, so if you don't see Tristan around, stay right with me too. Got it?"

Jason nods in agreement, and then Tristan signals him so he urges the horse forward. They gallop at a steady pace to catch up, and when they arrive in the courtyard, a groom hurries up to help him jump from the saddle, and Lancelot slides down right next to him. "Don't forget your job," he says to him pointedly, and Jason hurries over to his brother, taking a firm grip on his hand.

Tristan is listening to one of the guards, so when he glances down he doesn't say anything, but he squeezes his hand back.

They start hurrying through the castle, across the training yards filled with soldiers going through maneuvers, past the storage rooms where more men and women line up to receive weapons and shields, up and down hallways where pages and messengers hurry by with barely a nod. "I wonder what happened?" Lancelot says.

"Probably because of Camelot," answers Lynette.

"I don't know…" he replies, but does not continue as Jason looks around at everyone all but running around.

"Nothing good, most likely," Tristan grumbles out, as they barely dodge another group of Knights marching across the hallway and through a doorway.

No one seems to know where the king and queen are, so Tristan leads them to his father's private meeting room. "Are you sure about this?" Lynette asks as they reach the door. "He hates it when we-"

"This is important," he interrupts, looking down at Jason, and Jason looks up silently, unsure what to do because he can't make out Tristan's expression; but then Tristan's face scrunches up, and he gives the wall a pained look before pushing open the door.

They burst inside as a group and eight faces turn and look at them. Ban is stretched across a sofa, King floating nearby, with Diane standing next to him; Escanor sits in an overstuffed chair, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief, his little section extremely hot; Gowther sits with Elizabeth at a small table in the center of the room, eating biscuits and some tea as Merlin leans perched against its edge. The king, who had been pacing, whirls around and sputters after a moment of shock, "What are you all doing here?"

Jason pulls away from Tristan's hand and hurries around the table to where Elizabeth is sitting and wraps his arms around her waist. "Hey there," she says with a smile, her hand running through his hair before she gives him a tight squeeze. "How are you feeling today?" Jason takes a breath, about to tell his mother about the dream, but before he can his father is already shouting at the others. "Didn't I tell you to stay at the Boar's Hat?" He's doing that thing he does, where he's not _really_ yelling but for some reason his voice _seems loud;_ Lancelot says it's a dad-thing, and Jason ducks into his mother's arm.

Both Meliodas and Ban are stalking forward as Tristan rushes on, "Dad, something happened, you have to listen-"

"It's not _safe_ here," Meliodas says, grabbing him by the arm just as Ban catches Lancelot by the collar, and spins him around.

"You too," Ban growls. "Don't you ever stay put?"

"Stop!" Tristan shouts, trying to pull away from his father's grip, and Elizabeth stands, opening her mouth to say something as Jason clutches tightly to her thigh, "Meliodas?" she calls softly in surprise, as Lancelot tries to press his feet into the floor to stop them, but his shoes just skid over the stone before Ban lifts him up into the air and carries him towards the door while he kicks in the air instead.

"Please, come on guys," Diane speaks up in frustrated, her hands on her hips.

But the king is not listening, only pushing his arguing son towards the door. "Take Jason and get back where I told you to go," he says. The command is clear, and one not to be argued with, but Tristan yanks his arm back. He stumbles with a shout before rearing on Meliodas, his eyes growing dark as he says with a menacing tone, " **Back off."**

All at once the others are up, all eyes on the prince as his forehead crackles, twisting into a noticeable marking, his eyes black.

His father's hands still as the king's eyes widen, his mouth snapping shut, and he is just as surprised by the sudden change as everyone else. Meliodas glances around his face, and even Elizabeth puts a hand on Jason and pulls him behind her. "Tristan! Stop!" Lancelot yells, his legs kicking furiously from where Ban is still holding him in the air. The other Sins are moving together, clearly acting on reflex as they close rank around them, and he pleads louder, "Remember what you told me! Turn off the damn faucet!"

Tristan is not listening to him, as he locks eyes with his father, and Jason stares around his mother's hip as his eyes go huge. He'd never seen his brother so _mean_ before _._ He grabs a tight hold onto Elizabeth's dress, peering around her to watch as Tristan and Meliodas stare at each other. "Tristan," Meliodas says slowly, "Tristan, how long…" He pauses, voice calm, before trying again. "Listen to me-"

"I _told_ you," Tristan bites back, his hands clenching into tight fists, until his knuckles crack, "something happened. Now _you_ are going to listen. You need to-"

"Stop!" Tristan turns sharply at the unexpected interruption, about to pounce, but then Lynette is stepping between them, her hand pushing the prince back by the shoulder as she stares down at her father. "Both of you. Stop."

" _Lynette?!"_ Meliodas exclaims, and all at once any tension in his spine disappears, and replaced by shock. "What are you doing here?"

"I came home yesterday," she answers sharply. Then her eyes flick upwards, over his shoulder. "Tristan, he- he told me about Mom."

Elizabeth stiffens, and Jason looks up at her curiously. The entire room feels frozen for an instant, and then she gently pulls Jason's hands from her, giving him a brief smile. Then she hurries forward, stepping between Escanor and Diane, her eyes glancing over Ban. She reaches out as she walks towards them, her hand landing on Meliodas' shoulder, and they exchange a glance. Elizabeth looks at Lynette for a moment before turning her attention to the prince. "Tristan," she says gently, "tell us what happened."

His eyes dart between his parents, Elizabeth flinching at the solid black color they still were, instead of blue; clearly he is still agitated.

"How long has this been going on?" Meliodas tone isn't accusing, but heavy, as Tristan swallows a few times, but Meliodas clearly wants an answer as he watches Tristan physically try to shake off the marks. King murmurs something that sounds really nasty to Jason, but the boy is not able to really hear it- but he _does_ see Diane give a scolding glare in the corner of her eye to the fairy.

Finally, the twisted markings on Tristan's forehead fade to nothing as he blinks. Then it's another second before Tristan grinds out while ignoring the question, "Jason had another dream. A _blue_ dream. And it was about me."

Jason's eyes go wide, expecting for the adults to turn and all look at him; instead, they all start talking at once, no one even noticing him. It's so loud! Jason resists the urge to put his hands over his ears as his face scrunches up, and he watches curiously as Ban lowers Lancelot to the floor, and Merlin and his father start talking fast. He smiles a little as his mother gives Lynette a big hug, the two leaning into speak to one another, Lynette suddenly giggling like mad. Tristan looks like he might be sick, though, and goes to sit heavily in a chair as he turns back to normal, his skin all pale and sickly looking. Jason strains around the others, trying to watch him for signs he needs his help, but cannot see; finally, he takes a seat on the sofa that gives him a clearer view of his brother.

No one speaks to him, or even looks his way, for several minutes. But luckily Tristan isn't throwing up everywhere like Lancelot said. Jason stays focused on him, as the others talk about his dream and Camelot and something about a rope. He only understands some of it, so he stops listening, humming softly to himself as he swings his feet… until Gowther sits down next to him.

"They said you do not speak any more," Gowther says above him, startling him, and Jason looks up at him in surprise. "It isn't logical that you would forget how, so you must be choosing not to talk. But why would you do that?"

Gowther tilts his head to the side, and Jason does the same, wondering if he should tell him. Then he continues, "It seems as though some reassurance is called for here, is it not? Unfortunately I do not know how to sufficiently reassure a person such as yourself, considering the very dire circumstances your loved ones are in at the moment."

Jason's brows turn down, now very confused, his eyes widening again as he watches Gowther raise a finger and slowly bring it towards him. His eyes go nearly crossed as he watches it move forward and press against his forehead, and involuntarily his eyes close. "Huh?" Jason mutters, and then jumps when he feels a little spark against his skin.

"How very interesting," Gowther remarks. "I never realized how literal children are. Tell me, is it all children, or just ones such as yourself?" Jason blinks, and then Gowther continues, "Oh, of course. You are not speaking. Your conclusion is incorrect, however. Telling your secret did not cause the explosion in Camelot, nor any of the tension your family is now facing that you have noticed, and staying quiet now will not protect anyone." The Goat Sin flashes two thumbs up and raises his eyebrows. "I hope I provided adequate reassurance!"

Jason giggles at how silly Gowther looks as Lynette crouches down in front of him. "Hey, Jason," she says, "why don't we go and let the grown ups talk?"

He bites his lip, unsure if he should leave, and leans to the side to check on Tristan, but Lynette has his hand in a tight grip and is pulling him up before he can even see anything. They move quickly through the room, the others so occupied by their conversations to give a glance, and before Jason can say a word they are out the door.

* * *

Lancelot is quiet, listening to the conversation around him, something he isn't used to doing and requires a lot of his focus. He has been quiet a lot in the past twelve hours, and it's because something if off, something is nagging him since they got back from Camelot yesterday. _No, that's not right_ , he thinks.

Not since they returned; since Lynette returned.

On an impulse he walks over to where his father is listening to a grumbling Diane, his uncle red faced by her shoulder on his pillow. "Pop," he interrupts with a nudge of his elbow. "I need to talk to you."

Ban looks down over his shoulder. "Eh? Sorry about that earlier kiddo, you guys-"

"Yeah yeah, I know, it's fine," Lancelot interrupts with a shrug. And it _is_ fine, it really is; he knows what it looked like. He realizes now what a bad idea it was to burst in on the freaking _Seven Deadly Sins_ without warning, especially with a half-demon barely hanging onto his anger issues by a single freakin' thread, and newly coming to grips with an impending curse. _Yeah. Completely bad idea_.

"There's something wrong," he continues, and Ban huffs a laugh. "Yeah, you got that right, kid."

"No, I'm serious," he continues. "Dead serious." His eyes dart to Diane, who is looking at him curiously, and Ban turns to him fully. He continues, asking, "Have you ever fought someone who had a hammer?"

"Like a war hammer?" Ban asks, and when Lancelot nods, he tilts his head while pointing a finger to the sin of envy- with a 'are you kidding me' expression all over his face. "Just this _one_. She's whacked me in the face with hers more than once."

"You probably deserved it," she retorts with a huff, swishing her ponytails.

Ban shrugs. "Yeah, probably." His eyes return to his son. "Why'd ya ask?"

"I'm not… really sure?" he answers as his voice goes up a pitch, trying to find a way to describe what he was feeling- or rather, what he _wasn't_ feeling, when his father's eyes flick up over his head. "Hold that thought," Ban says, and he and Diane step around him and back to the table where Meliodas is waving them over. But not before he smothers his son's hair to the point that Lancelot squawks.

He wanders over to where Tristan is standing, looking out the window, as he himself looks around the room. "Where's Jason?" Lancelot asks, and Tristan shrugs. "Lynette took him somewhere, I think," the prince answers.

"Shit," he curses, "Shit shit shit, titty spinkled _shit."_ Grabbing Tristan by the arm he yanks him forward, dragging him into the hallway. "I told him to stay with one of us! Come on, we gotta go find them."

"Why?" he says. "He's fine with her. My father is going to want all the Holy Knights on duty today. That includes us, as apprentices."

"Yeah, that's what we're doing," Lancelot insists, pulling harder, leading him to the exit. The Sins are too busy listening to the plan to notice them slip out. Quickly he takes off almost at a sprint, hurrying down the hallway, and Tristan has to jog a bit to keep up with him. "What are you running for? Lynette can watch him. He's safe in the castle."

"Don't'cha think it's a bit weird," Lancelot huffs, punctuating each word, "that she just _showed_ up yesterday? Hello, here she was?"

They turn another corner as Tristan answers, "Well, no. She said she got a message to come home. She told us-"

"Yeah, from your dad. But did you see his face when she walked in? He was shocked to see her. She lied."

Tristan stops short, suddenly coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of the hallway- and Lancelot makes a loud indignant sound as he points at Tristan's not-moving feet in horror. _What is he doing?!_ "Oh, come on!" Lancelot howls, his hands in his hair. He looks at Tristan pleadingly, biting his tongue to not let loose a string of curses as he watches his friend frown deeply in thought.

"Wait a minute." Tristan says slowly, "Lynette isn't a liar."

Lancelot makes a noise similar to something Myrtle might make, as he gestures frantically in front of them. "Yes! I know! That the _entire point!_ She doesn't lie and that's all she's been doing. Look- look okay, there's something weird going on here and I can't- I can't figure her out." He says the last part begrudgedly, the words stinging his throat. "But if we could just-"

"What are you talking about?" the prince says, annoyed. "Figuring her out, she's Lynette, there isn't anything _to_ figure out."

Gritting his teeth, Lancelot pulls himself up as tall as he can. "Yeah, maybe, but not with _this_ _Lynette_. There is something _wrong_ with her. And I can't read her or see her and my freaking brain is shouting bad news about this, man."

"Oh come on. You can't say things like that." Tristan takes on that expression, the one Lancelot really just kind of hates with a fundamental passion, because that means Tristan has to be right and was not going to listen.

"Will ya stop wasting both of our times!" Lancelot snaps, shouting so loud and cutting the prince's _stupid drivel_ off before he had to resort to punching him. People passing them by actually turn to look, and there must have been something about his tone or his face, because Tristan jerks. He quickly hurries out the rest. "It's like she's there, but she's not there. She showed up yesterday, the same day this guy got killed-"

"That-"

"And _then,"_ he cuts him off with a hiss, "she nearly took the both of us out-"

Tristan huffs. "She's always been like that, you know that-"

"Really?" Lancelot's voice raises in pitch. "She's broken your ribs before? She's thrown me ten yards before? That wasn't playing around. And her reaction to hearing about your mom- that _wasn't Lynette_. Ya said so yourself, she reacted weird to the whole thing."

They stare at each other for a long moment before Lancelot strides forward. "Look, I'm not saying your sister is evil." He glares up at him, "But Come. On. I don't know what it means- and I- I don't know what I'm saying, really- But she went after us both and then lied to your dad and now she's somewhere with Jason and _we don't know where._ Are ya catching my damn drift? Cause ya need to come with me? Okay?"

He watches as Tristan hesitates, turning all of this over in his head, and Lancelot can feel the heat rising up his neck as he points down the hallway, snarling. "Damn it! Will you just believe me this _one time!_ " he shouts. "For once, will you just listen to me?! "

"Okay, okay," Tristan says quickly, and Lancelot huffs. "Let's go find her." Tristan stands up straights, his face finally changing into the determined expression Lancelot had been waiting for this entire time.

Lancelot nods and they hurry down the hallway again, taking a flight of stairs two at a time, as they hop and bolt around and over the groups of people all over the hallways, darting by the platoons of knights as they head towards the east gates. Tristan follows right behind Lancelot, who always knows the direction to go- and then, after rounding another corner, they spot Lynette pulling Jason through one of the training fields. Right by people who don't even spare a busy glance.

"Hey, Lynette!" Tristan calls, but the girl does not stop; in fact, she quickens her pace.

Lancelot grinds his teeth as he sees Tristan's face screw up in confusion, and all the alarm bells are going off like mad men in his head.

 _Damn it. Damn it damn it!_

"Lynette, stop!" Lancelot shouts, breaking into a sprint. Despite his size, he moves fast, and reaches them in a matter of seconds. He skids to a halt in their way, putting a hand up. "Hold up a second, will ya?" He looks down at Jason, who has a worried look on his face as Lynette keeps a tight hold of his upper arm, the grip all but pulling him to walk on his toes. "Yo, Jason, are you okay man?"

"Get out of my way, Lancelot," Lynette says, her voice easy, conversational but containing an unmistakable edge to it. And Lancelot chuckles humorously. She wanted to try to sound like Meliodas when he was controlling his emotions? She had a _long ways_ to go before she could even visit his league. "I need to get Jason to where it's safe," she starts again, and his eyes narrow, his brow raising.

"Oh yeah?" he challenges as Tristan finally reaches them. "Where is that, exactly, huh? We'll come with you."

"It's fine," she says, tossing her bangs back and looking between them with a huff. "I can protect him. I'm a better fighter than you two anyway. You should get back to your posts before the king has a fit."

"Lynette," Tristan says tightly, "What are you talking about?" He takes another step forward, his arm outstretched in a peaceful gesture. "Let him go for a second will you?" He's confused, and Lancelot can't blame him as he looks down, seeing Jason's expression for the first time. "What are you even _doing?"_

There is a tense moment where the two siblings stare off, but then Lynette releases Jason's arm. She places her hands on her hips and scowls at them. "What do you want? Is this some sort of older-sibling privileges you are trying to pull? Because, let me just tell you-"

"Yeah, I have a question," Lancelot cuts her off sharply, holding a finger up in the air. "What are you doing here?"

Lynette laughs. "What do you mean? I live here." She turns and looks down at Lancelot, her smile not quite reaching her eyes as she waves back at the castle's east gates just a few yards away. "In case you forgot, I happen to be the princess. Of Lioness."

"Uh huh." Lancelot scratches his head. "It's weird though, because the princess never went around smashing people with a hammer in the middle of the night or yanking her brother around. Or lying to the king."

"Lying? What do you mean?" Her eyes narrow as she takes another step forward, using her height to intimidate the half-fairy; but Lancelot just looks up at her with a half-cocked smile, his arms by his side, his demeanor completely casual.

"Ya told us that the king sent for you," he says pleasantly, smiling wider as his red eyes stare back at her without an _inch_ of hesitation. "But he didn't really, did he? Actually- he was surprised you were even here!" He waves a hand, "We were all kind of there when it happened, ya know."

"That's stupid. This is stupid." She reaches out a hand, and says loudly and with an air of finality, "Come on, Jason, let's go. We're leaving."

But Jason doesn't move, instead taking a step away from her. "Come _on_ Jason." With a scowl she steps around Lancelot's side to grab him, her arm outstretched- but in a split second Lancelot is between them, pushing Jason backwards. "You're not taking him anywhere," he practically growls, Arondight now flashing in his hand.

Lynette stills.

All movements cease, her body stopping in place as she looks like she just… stopped working. Her expression freezes on her face. But then her eyes swivel to the side to look at him, the movement downright freaky.

"That's not funny," her voice is wrong, wrong wrong and _blank_ to Lancelot, as she stares him down.

"Lancelot! What the hell are you doing?" Tristan shouts, pulling Jason backwards and away from the two of them. "Put Arondight away!"

Lancelot ignores the command, his eyes detecting a flash as suddenly the long-handled hammer appears in Lynette's hands. "You never told us where you got that," he says with a cold smile.

"It's mine," Lynette says with the same tone. "And if you don't want me to use it on your head, you'll move out of my way."

"Lynette? Come on, both of you knock it off." Tristan says uneasily, but Lancelot's smile widens. "I can't read you anymore, you know. Are you even a little real, at all?"

"What?!" the prince yells, and again they ignore him.

Lancelot and Lynette stare at each other, the moment of tense silence completely oppressive as a trickle of sweat trails down the side of his neck.

He raises his hand slightly, Arondight inching forward, spinning a bit as it points directly at the princess, and it listens without objection. "Now," he huffs out, his voice shockingly dark as all traces of his joking nature vanish. "You are going to tell me- no, _us,_ what the hell is going on."

"And I'm only going to tell _you_ one more time," she answers. "Get. Out. Of. The damn way." Tristan is still shouting at them to _stop_ , his voice hissing through the training field as more people turn to stare, a large circle forming around them as the whispering starts, but Lancelot continues to ignore him, searching Lynette's face for any trace of a clue. A sign- _anything_ to figure out why she was so damn _wrong_. Her heart is still frustratingly silent, not a peep, not a flutter. If a person is sad, or mad, or even a little constipated there was _something,_ but her? She was like, like a blank slate…

But then hammer seems to be reaching out for him. It feels like a humming inside his mind, and Lancelot is filled with a sudden wave of terror.

He flexes his hand controlling his spear and his eyes flicker back up to hers. "Lynette," he says sharply. "What-?"

"Lancelot," she answers slowly.

His brows shoot up as he hears a tremble of fear in her voice, and he can see something in the depths of her eyes that is nearly pleading with him. "Don't do this. Give me Jason."

"Jason, run," Tristan hisses behind him, and in the edges of his vision Lancelot sees the boy take off back towards the castle. The prince also takes a step forward, and everything seems to slow down- as he watches in horror as Lynette moves to the side. She extends her arm out, swinging the hammer towards the boy, and Lancelot uses all of his strength to leap between them, raising his arm on instinct as Arondight takes the form of the shield a moment before the hammer slams down on him. The sound of the metal striking metal clangs against his spirit spear, seeming to echo not only through the yard, but through his entire body. He can hear the loud shout and gasps from the gathering crowd as he pushes her backwards, his other hand shooting out to grab Jason by the arm, and with one fluid movement he spins, tossing the boy towards his brother even as Arondight changes back into the spear and settles into his waiting grip.

It's all so clear in his mind; he will swing the spear towards her, try to disarm her, and then use his magic to try to destroy the hammer. He doesn't know how he knows this, but he is sure that it is controlling her somehow, that it is connected to everything that has happened _somehow_.

At first, this is how it happens, just as he saw. Arondight swings around his body, and Lancelot strikes her with it, knocking her back with a crushing hit of the handle. He isn't sure whether she did not see the spear, or if she really did not believe he would hurt her. A sliver of guilt flashes up the back of his neck as he watches her stumble, and he raises the spear to disarm her with the next swipe. But her other hand shoots out, her sabre thrusting forward, and she calls out " _Retaliation_ ,"

\- As it stabs him in the stomach, before twisting her arm and _yanking_ it out.

The second it pierces him, his body in torn in half, pain exploding through him as every muscle in his body seizes. He slams to the ground, his head bouncing on the stone, stars in his eyes and wind rushing in his ears, and Tristan's voice is shouting, miles away; but he cannot answer, he can't even think through the agonizing pain. Lancelot looks to the side, his vision blurry, but he spies Arondight on the ground, still for once, before Lynette's boots step over him and kick the spear across the yard. He opens his mouth to shout a command, but all that comes out is a spray of blood; that's when he notices he's covered in it, his hands and arms and even the ground beneath him a bright red.

With the sight of all that blood, Lancelot knows he failed. He failed to protect Jason; he failed to warn the others about his suspicions; he failed to stay alive, which is really all he sometimes thought his parents had expected him to do in the end. And for what? He did his duty as a Holy Knight: he gave his life to protect the prince, but he failed to stop the enemy. He coughs instead when he goes to breathe in, even more copper tasting liquid bubbling up in his throat, and he can't even twitch a finger anymore.

 _The enemy_ , he thinks, but it's not an enemy. It's his sister, it's someone he loves, someone he has known his entire life, someone he would have protected with his own. A sudden exhaustion overtakes him as the pain melts away, and the last thing he knows as his vision dims is the sound of his little brother screaming.


	25. Never To Return

A/N: We apologize for the delay, but as you'll discover there was much to be done for this chapter. Please fasten your seatbelts and stow your tray tables as we prepare for our descent.

Leanna23: Oh, no no dude, this story will hurt you. Thank you. And we really do hope you like this chapter too.

MarianaBuBuLuBu: Yeah...

BettyBest2:You noticed that hammer, did you, hehehe. Yes, we are beginning to think if we do make a sequel it's just gonna be _everyone_ sitting in therapy, petting puppies at this point.

sassykitten1701: yesyesyesyesyesyesyes we kind of can! Lynette? Hmmm

peacerockgirl123: *passes you a drink* you'll be needing this

Vhosek: Thank you love, both of us were screaming from start to finish. We are glad you liked it while simultaneously hating it with a passion lol. Please survive just a little while longer- we'll send you some tissues and hot chocolate. Stay strong

CaptainTwiggy0918: Yea, we really don't like to pull our punches- you noticed that did you? Yes, Lancelot was just as much Tristan's rock as he was his own. Ending well? Did we plan on ending this story happily, we don't remember saying that… _**cue storm clouds, thunder and lightening**_

Chapter twenty five: Never To Return

* * *

Tristan stands there, frozen, the air wheezing out of his lungs as everything seems to go by in slow motion; his mind taking everything into great detail as his sister pulls her sword from Lancelot's stomach.

She rips his side wide open as she twists the blade, blood spraying as it goes right through him before her arm yanks outwards, and someone screams- _is it him? is it Jason?_ \- but he can't even begin to figure it out, as all he can do is stare in shock as Lancelot's body falls hard to the ground, crumbling as his clothes and skin and the ground are painted red... as _chunks go flying with Lynette's sabre._

 _No. No no no what was happening? That couldn't be- that wasn't-_

Lancelot?

Tristan's face is ashen white, and he looks down to see that his entire body is shaking. _He can't move-_ but the entire courtyard seems to erupt with people stumbling back in horrified disarray, others rushing forward as dozens of people just appear, Knights and maids and common civilians gasping and shouting and screaming.

 _Lancelot. Oh gods, Lancelot._ Something starts to rise up in his throat, his neck tightening and slowly squeezing.

"Someone! Call for the physician!" The voices blend together, Tristan unable to focus on who is saying what.

"Was it a fight? An attack?"

"She just stabbed him!"

"The Princess, by gods she just-!"

"Your Highness, drop your weapon!"

Lynette steps over the body, over the reddening form of a coughing Lancelot, and she knocks his spear away with a hard kick that sends it flying off into the air. He can see knights drawing their swords around them, but she doesn't even look back as a maid rushes forward; faces that Tristan has seen his entire life filtering through the haze of his mind, and he watches Lancelot's expression crumble, as Lynette looks at her sword… before Lancelot's eyes close. There's more shouting, more screaming as Lynette walks calmly forward, someone bolting to Lancelot's side as they place a towel over his stomach, holding pressure over it and-

Tristan's eyes snap back up- she is looking at _him_ , and they lock eyes; and suddenly his world, which had seemed to screech to a halt, comes forcefully rushing back to reality. Because _she doesn't look bothered at all._ She looks as if, as if Lancelot had annoyed her or something- had said something again that all of them found _vexing_ or- or- and she…

She has blood spatter on her arm. Her eyes look to the side before she brings a hand up, rubbing a thumb over her cheek. "Huh," she says flatly as she whips a streak of red across her face.

 _She just killed Lancelot?_

Lynette walks towards him, her eyes blank as she raises a brow, but she stops several steps away and says in a cold, hard voice that he barely recognizes, "Give me Jason."

He looks down and realizes he is gripping his brother's shirt. It had to have been Jason who was screaming, because there are tears coursing down his face, his skin red, but now his shouts are hiccuping sobs that lurch him in his brother's hold. Jason looks up at him with swollen eyes, clenching around Tristan's white knuckled and shaking grip with his own hands. "Lancelot!" Jason wails, and then he slaps his hands over his mouth as he lets loose another scream, curling into himself.

There is shouting around them, and when Tristan looks to the side he sees knights running towards them from across the yard, drawn by the body on the ground and the prince's screams. "Jason!" Lynette hollars, lunging forward, snapping his attention back. "Give him back!"

"Go!" Tristan shouts, his voice suddenly coming back as he pushes his brother with all of his strength, pulling his sword at the same time. The sound of a weapon meeting another clangs loudly as Jason squawks, landing on his rear a few feet away. Tristan whirls on Lynette; the rest of the knights are now close enough to see what has happened, and they are drawing their own weapons upon her. "Your Highness!" one is shouting. "Put down your weapons!"

Someone lunges at Lynette's side, a large sword aimed downwards, and another man is giving a war cry as Tristan ducks low, her sabre swinging over his head as her hammer deflects and sends a knight in full armor over the heads of another two men. Her sword just grazes the tips of his hair before he relaxes the grip on his weapon, just enough to get feeling back into his shaking fingers- seeing the more experienced and powerful Holy Knights taking charge and forcing his sister on the defensive. Lynette hops back with a hiss of annoyance, none of the Holy Knights' weapons meeting their mark, and it looks like she is leaning to drop her own as they are finally surrounded. But instead, to his horror, she swings her hammer to the side, calling out something he doesn't understand.

The knights go flying as he shouts, raising his arms to shield his face as a massive wave of power surges outwards, whipping him around as his feet slide on the ground; and her attack sends everyone crashing into the ground or the gates or into the adjacent building.

 _She just killed Lancelot._

Jason screams again, high pitched and terrified as Tristan's head whips around, seeing him take off running towards the gates. Lynette starts after him, but through a haze of red Tristan moves, bringing his sword around in an attack- twisting and ducking before he lands in front of her. He catches her off-guard, giving him a moment's advantage and that is all he needs, sending a flurry of swipes with his sword that Lynette barely blocks with the hammer.

He manages to force her back, disarming her of her sword, which is flung away to the ground with a clatter. She shouts _something_ and swings the hammer at him- surprise on her face- using both hands to put force behind it, but Tristan sees it coming.

A flash of heat under his skin that is now becoming familiar burns across his forehead.

 _She killed Lancelot!_

He feels a sudden surge of power that is addicting and dangerous, and before he even realizes it he has dodged the hammer and delivered a kick to Lynette's side. She stumbles with a pained gasp, her legs buckling as spittle flies from her mouth, and she hacks in a breath. He then uses the opportunity to slam his elbow into her neck- following through with all his weight as her body goes up and over, slamming into the ground.

Then he is on top of her with a loud yell ripping from his throat, throwing his sword away in a haze of rage as he gives her a series of blows in succession. Over and over and over, his knuckles screaming as he hits her, and he would have lost count if he was keeping track. He is gasping for breath between a flurry of curses and incoherent screams, practically snarling as a tight grip lands on his shoulder, his fingers somehow at one point wrapping around her neck _and squeezing-_ and someone is yanking him back before he pulls his hands away. The armored grip of a Holy Knight wraps around him and _pulls_. Then he's stumbling up- someone is saying " _Enough!"_ \- but his legs are shaking and he can't get enough air as he races over to Lancelot, tripping over his own feet.

He crashes to his knees on the ground, reaching out for his friend's shoulders- his brother's shoulders, gripping him and giving him a hard shake. "Lancelot, come on," he croaks harshly, but as Tristan's eyes travel down he can see the mess of blood and gore in the center of his body. He looks back at Lancelot's face, taking in the way his skin is pale, his chest unmoving, his eyes only half closed and _staring at nothing,_ his body completely light and limp in his hands as he shakes him again _and again_. The rage he had unleashed against Lynette is melting away rapidly, and now Tristan is filled with a terrible grief.

Lancelot is dead. It hits him fully then, something snapping inside of him as a great cry rips from his throat, boiling hot tears hovering in the edges of his eyes before tipping over. Never before has he _felt this much;_ and he chokes back a silent sob, giving Lancelot another weak shake as he trembles, curling around him, hugging the smaller man to his chest as he sobs, the tears _burning._

A part of him is convinced it's a dream or a joke, that Lancelot is going to pop an eye open and laugh. He clings to a fading hope that he and Lynette had this planned the whole time.

Or maybe it's that- that this is just him going insane. That it is just the curse making him see things and Lancelot is fine, he's fine. He is fine-

Something crashes into the side of his head, so hard the world blurs as he's thrown, blood immediately filling his mouth as Tristan sees stars and white. He is flung backwards with a crack, the earth giving way under his body as stone breaks under his shoulder. He skids across the grounds, spinning and rolling before coming to a stop with a pained intake of air.

"I'm surprised at you, Tristan," Lynette says lazily, giving him a sound kick in the back, crashing her boot into his spine as she appears above him. He rolls away from the force, his head absolutely screaming as he leaves a trail of blood under her shoe. "Didn't anyone teach you not to turn your back on the enemy?"

He tries to catch his breath as she tilts her head to the side, her bruised and bloody face _annoyed_ as she kicks him again. His eyes blur over as she strikes him in the ribs this time, once, twice, then when he feels the bones give way her boot smashes against his temple and swings his head to the other side- and he finally sees why no one was pulling them apart again.

The ground is covered with scattered pieces of knights, those who were still moving struggling to stand, and the man who had tried to calm him down, who had pulled him off his sister so he wouldn't kill her, he is missing _both his legs._ Tristan's stomach heaves, the edges of his vision spotted with black dots, and he tries to roll to his side, tries to get up or away as he looks up at her.

Her lips are twisted upwards, her eyes bright and she is watching him with great satisfaction, her foot coming down on his head and his chest and his neck... which only infuriates him more. His head is spinning, from the blows and from confusion, that she could be doing this- _why is she doing this?_ \- but he knows he needs to move- her foot crushing his hand and breaking his fingers under her metal toed boots- he needs to get his sword that he foolishly threw away, and get up and stop her. The need to hurt her, to see her as broken and bloody, to give back ten times what she did to Lancelot is overwhelming and terrifying.

* * *

Meliodas isn't so much as watching Elizabeth out of the corner of his eye, as he and the rest of the Seven Deadly Sins debate where to begin their search for whatever this _thing_ is, as he is simply hyper aware of her. He needs to pay close attention so that he can give orders and listen to plans, but each time she shifts in her chair, or plays with her earring, or presses her hands together, his entire back stiffens or turns towards her, as he waits for another episode to strike.

It wasn't an if, at this point, it was a _when_ and now that even Tristan-

He stops thinking, looking back to the large table which has a map of Lioness stretched across it as he drums his finger against the wood. The war room hasn't been used for quite some time, but none of them were rusty. So, he will not think about _that._

Her hand moves to the back of her neck after another minute, slowly rubbing the mark that is there as she looks to the side. By her far off look he knows she must be she is thinking of all the information that they have just learned. Speaking steadily, Meliodas reaches out and gives her shoulder a tight squeeze, his eyes still trained on the map as they put down more markers, and he glances in the corner of his eye as she shivers slightly. His fingers, moving slowly, slide around her shoulder and under her dress collar, to the back of her neck, tracing his fingertips against the mark he knows is hidden beneath her hair.

"Merlin," he says suddenly, cutting off Diane who is half grumbling, half debating their intended route around the kingdom with Gowther, "do you know anything more about the mark?"

The mage lifts her chin slightly, sitting cross-legged on the table with scrolls around her. "It's an ancient symbol, both of them, dating back from before there was a Lioness." One of the scrolls comes undone, unrolling to show vaguely the same hammer-like symbol surrounded by strange illegible texts, hovering over her head. Elizabeth squints, as more scrolls float upwards and unroll, all to show different versions of both the noose and the hammer's head. "They are far from when Britannia first began. Unfortunately, I can't find exactly what it means, since my books are gone."

"Ah, an extremely thorough and effective crippling attack against you, then." Gowther pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one finger, and Merlin looks over at him, her golden eyes narrowing. "Whoever attacked you in Camelot must have been aware of how close you were to possibly finding unwanted secrets."

"Damn asshole," Ban grunts, his own face shadowing as he thinks back to the explosion, Diane nodding fervently next to him.

Escanor shifts in his corner, his size having expanded since their discussion had began a little while after daybreak. "When we find this wretched thing, we'll have all the answers we want." his eyes curve upwards into a smile, as he brings his teacup up, tiny in his now large hands, to take a delicate sip.

"Sure. Fair enough," Meliodas says, his fingers skimming over the line of her hair and skin, rubbing circles with his thumb as a shiver goes down her back, making her squirm in her seat. "We need to move into teams. While the rest of us search for whatever this is, I want Merlin and Gowther to stay with Tristan. Jason too. This Boogeyman- whatever he is- needs to be kept as far away from them as possible."

There's a murmur of agreement around the room, and Meliodas looks around to see if Tristan heard this, turning towards the door, and realizes that all of the children are gone. Gilthunder is there, with his arm still crossed and he raises a brow at the king's frown, and Meliodas wonders where the hell they had all gone off to- again.

Merlin continues, her scrolls snapping shut audibly, "It will be interesting to watch as Tristan's symptoms develop. We've never been able to observe the moment the curse strikes. What happens when the person there is replaced with the person now." Her eyes flicker towards Elizabeth, who glances downwards, a bit nervous as she looks down at her hands, and Merlin looks downright cheerful at the prospect. "What happens to everything? To his spirit, to his magic? I'll have to be sure to have a Balor's Eye trained on him-"

"Yes," Meliodas huffs in annoyance, cutting her off pre-rant; seeing the almost literal stars in her eyes as she starts thinking out loud. "Let's just stay focused on stopping the curse, _before_ that happens." He forces his last words out while giving Merlin a stern look, and she pouts. The others begin to discuss where to start the search, and Meliodas uses his fingers to gently tilt Elizabeth's face up towards his. "I want you to stay here too. If you have another episode, I don't want you to be alone."

"If you want me to stick around Elizabeth, I'm here." Diane speaks up, standing next to them with a gentle look, and she grabs Elizabeth's hands and squeezes it tight. "You can't let this guy get away with everything!" she smiles brightly as she tilts her head in Meliodas direction, the king giving her a half-lidded bored look as Elizabeth finally cracks a small smile.

"Is that all? I can't help somehow?" Elizabeth sighs. "I feel fine. I haven't had any troubles at all."

Diane frowns. "Well, I don't think anyone wants you going up against this guy." She looks back at Meliodas. "She's doing so much better since her last attack, Captain. Could she come?"

Elizabeth can see the doubt on his face, but then Merlin says, "You know, I was wondering about that, Your Grace." They both look at the mage, who is looking back at Elizabeth thoughtfully. "After your breakdown in Barsil, it would only make sense for your mental state to deteriorate rapidly. And yet… here you are." She punctuates the last bit with a gorgeous smile.

Meliodas narrows his eyes. "Rather harsh there, Merlin," he mutters, but Elizabeth says, "I can't explain it. I've felt completely… myself. I can remember everything clearly again."

"Remarkable," she mutters, stepping closer as she stands over the sitting woman, leaning over to see her closer. "Was this from the attack?"

"No, actually…" Elizabeth shakes her head as she thinks. "Actually, it was when I- when I met Jason." Meliodas' eyebrows shoot up at her declaration, before he frowns deeply.

Jason, again. He brings a hand up to his hair as Elizabeth looks up at the mage- straightening his tilted crown- and Merlin is seemingly eager by the news as his eyes glance over to Ban, who is dramatically using some papers to wave at his sweating face, grumbling as he stands by Escanor.

Merlin's eyes seem to gleam. "The prince seems to be quite tangled up in this, doesn't he?"

"Do you really think he's in trouble?" Diane asks, wearing her lower lip in her teeth in worry. "He's just a kid…"

"What are you getting at?" asks Meliodas, but Merlin just shrugs. "It's hard to say," she says, closing her eyes with a smile, "But he predicts the curse, we know that for certain. And now it seems like he can affect it as well. He can soothe the symptoms… when so many others have failed."

Elizabeth nods in agreement. "When I healed his arm, he tried to heal me too. He thought I was sick, Tristan told him that. He had brought me soup." Meliodas sees a smile cross her face, and he can't help but smile a bit himself, remembering. "And when he used his healing, I remembered. I remembered everything. It was all so clear."

"Well, that makes sense, doesn't it?" says Meliodas. "If Jason is a healer-"

"No it doesn't," Merlin interjects. "So is Elizabeth, and her powers, the powers of an actual Apostle, could not affect this strong of a curse."

"Does that mean…?" Elizabeth swallows. "Could Jason really be a source of all of this?"

"No." Merlin shakes her head. "This is too powerful for someone of his age and ability. His magic… What I suspect is that his power does not work the way I first believed it did."

Meliodas frowns, wondering what she means…

He does not get the opportunity to ask her, however, because at that moment an explosion and a shockwave hit their building from outside.

The glass in the windowpanes bursts into splinters, the outer wall vibrating so hard it all but lifts them off the floor. Meliodas is moving in an instant, pulling Elizabeth, tightly against him and turning his body to protect her from harm. The glass and rocks pelt off him and knocks down furniture, the table shaking so hard it tilts and crashes over. Meliodas hears a hissed, "Not again," as Ban snaps a hand out to catch a large vase from crashing to the floor. They are moving to the windows as Gilthunder shouts, the doors to the room flying open as the two guards on the other side stumble in.

"An attack?!" Gilthunder is already drawing himself up into the posture of the Great Holy Knight, throwing an arm outwards to bark out commands at the wide eyed and clearly young recruits sputtering behind them. "Get everyone to their stations! Immediately!" he shouts, hurrying from the room, the guards at his heels.

Their eyes dart around the smoke, the atmosphere tense as they wait for it to clear, to see what had caused the blast, and Meliodas, who has still not moved with his arm around Elizabeth stands upright- fairly certain there wouldn't be another explosion, at least for now. He keeps his wife securely against him, frowning as he feels her tremble. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she gasps. "I'm- I'm fine. But, but Sir Meliodas, where are the children?" Her anxious eyes search his, before darting to the open doors of the room, but he gives her a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, three of them are Holy Knights, remember? Jason is safe with them. I need you to stay with me, don't run off. Okay?"

"Hey Captain," Ban says from the window when Elizabeth goes to say something. "You might want to take a look at this, first."

Meliodas looks over his shoulder, pulling Elizabeth with him to see, unwilling to let her go just yet. "What is it? Can you see what-?"

His question is cut short as he looks out, the grounds visible, and sees for himself what caused the blast. It's Tristan and Lynette. They are fighting _violently_ in the training yard- ripping it apart with magic and explosive swings of their swords.

There is shouting, so loud they can hear them eight stories up in the castle, as Holy Knights run next to them, trying to keep up with the two as they sprint and spin and lunge. They watch as more offensive attacks are thrown through the air, hearing the Holy Knights shouting and missing Lynette and Tristan by mere seconds as they too swing in with their weapons drawn, before someone literally tries to get between them- and is _hurled_ away.

There is a flash of hot anger that rolls up his spine as his eyes narrow, and he doesn't catch the harsh curse that passes through his lips. Elizabeth jerks in his arms as King and Diane shout something next to him, and he pulls his crown off his head and places it on the windowsill.

Ban whistles as both of them swing again, their blades clashing with a shockwave that blows back the others, again, before Lynette raises her second weapon and _slams_ it into the ground- and the area around her buckles, the force throwing men and women in armor through the air. The ground is now a hole where she stands and Tristan, who had been thrown back as well, twists in the air to land on his feet, before he lets out a scream and rushes right back at her.

"What are they doing?" Diana calls out, worried as she looks over to the gate. One of the walls of the outer walls is heavily damaged- _that's what caused the blast_ , Meliodas thinks- and there are- _there are_ _bodies_ on the ground around them, scattered wherever his eyes darted around.

"Goddamn it," he shouts. What the hell are they doing? They aren't all home a _day_ and-

"Yo," Ban points, "Look."

The angry father inside him melts away as he follows Ban's finger… and suddenly it is replaced by a devastating _dread._ When he takes in the stance of the Knights around the two of them, the body language of them all... he realizes in that moment that they are really _fighting_ , the kind in which you are protecting your life and your home with everything you have. This isn't a squabble between siblings, this isn't a sparring session between comrades. Nor is it one of the countless arguments that he or Elizabeth had to mediate, when the competitions between his kids would get a little too serious. This isn't it. Twice he can remember when they had actually fought for real, one or both of them throwing insults that led to throwing punches: once when they were just kids, the prince and princess rolling around pulling hair and kicking and biting viciously, and it took three guards to pull them apart, to the mortification of their tutor; and another time, when they were young teenagers, right after their powers had begun to truly emerge, both ending up with broken bones, Tristan with a deep wound in his side, and their mother not speaking to them for a week.

Those memories, however, are nothing like this… now they are really trying to _kill_ each other.

He grabs his weapon before he quickly secures it over his shoulder, saying as he looks at Elizabeth, "Stay here." His tone is final, and she nods, letting go of his forearm that she had been clutching tightly. "King, Diane, Gowther, come with me. This could be Tristan's curse. The rest of you just wait here." There are no arguments, and is he is out the window with one leap, landing easily on the ground, the other three following right behind; and he takes off across the yard in a flash, calling for them to stop.

There is shouting for him from every direction, his knights clearly relieved as the crowd parts as he darts into the fight. But his two children take no notice, neither listening as their weapons clash- _is that a war hammer?_ \- the blows coming so furiously that they are moving like a blur.

Then Lynette goes flying with an enraged scream, sailing backwards through the air, and she slams into another section of the castle wall, brick and stone exploding out and raining down on them. Meliodas shouts, skidding around the showering debris and he throws an arm out- _yanking_ Tristan out of the way of a large chunk of wall before it can fall on his head.

Meliodas looks up towards the remaining wall… but her body does not fall, and when he can finally see through the plume of dust, he finds his daughter trapped by a giant spear. She is run through, screaming in pain and frustration, grabbing onto the handle and trying to yank it out. The middle tine has pierced the side of her abdomen, slicing right through her body, while the two on either side are dug into the brick wall of the castle. Meliodas is beyond furious now: he is livid that his children would do this, would cause so much harm to each other, and her shouts and the sight of blood seeping from her stomach lighting a fire under him. It is coupled with the horror of what is happening to his son, the one thing he never wanted to happen. All he can think about is that mark on Tristan's forehead, and terror sits inside his stomach like a hot, heavy stone, because he knows what it means. He knows Tristan is the cause of all this.

He yanks Tristan around by the shoulders. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Meliodas yells, grasping his arm and wrenching him closer. Tristan stumbles with the unexpected force, and when he looks at his father, Meliodas jerks back himself at the sight of the swirling mark on his forehead, his suspicions seemingly confirmed. "Tristan? _What have you-?"_

"It's _her!"_ Tristan practically snarls, yanking his arms away, and stands face to face with him. " _She did this! She killed Lancelot!"_

Meliodas spins his head around to look at his daughter, who is still pinned to the wall by a giant spear- which he realizes now is- Arondight? _What is happening?_

"Are you certain that is the princess?" Gowther says at Meliodas' side, the king twitching as the Sin of Lust appears. "Her power level is fluctuating dramatically, and it is proving difficult to tell who exactly killed the Fairy King."

"Of course it's her! Help me!" Meliodas shouts, but Gowther tilts his head to the side and points a finger at where Lynette struggles against Arondight. The blood pools down her clothes, running down her legs and it _hurts him to see it._ "Are you certain you wish to assist her, Captain?" he asks. "It appears that the only way to contain such a magic is with a Spirit Spear. Releasing it will set free more than just your daughter."

He watches in horror as she screams into the air, trying to yank the spear out that has her pinned to the wall, and Meliodas decides it doesn't matter what the hell Gowther is talking about, and he takes off again, jumping with a great leap up to Lynette. He grabs the handle of the spear and pulls, feeling it resist him as he pushes off the wall with his feet, and his teeth grind. Damn it, where the hell is Lancelot? Will he never learn to control this thing?

Then Meliodas remembers Tristan's words- _She killed Lancelot!_ \- and he grunts as the spear slowly slides free, resisting with all its might as the blade slides free from his screaming daughter stomach.

Both he and Lynette drop to the ground as Meliodas tosses the spear away. "Lynette?" he cries, holding her up in panic as her own arms wrap around her abdomen. "Are you alright?! What is going on?" She is covered in blood and bruises, her blond hair brown with dirt, her clothes and skin dirty and streaked, and when she looks up at him, he is startled not to see her familiar blue eyes. The eyes that meet his are black.

" **Thanks, dad,"** she says with a sickening smile.

She puts her hand out, and like a fool he looks down to see what she offers. A flash of bright white power explodes from her palm, and Meliodas is thrown backwards before he can think of pulling his sword. He lands hard on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and his first thought is that he has not been hit like that in a long, _long_ time. He rolls onto his stomach, pushing up on his hands and knees; but when he goes to move, he finds he is trapped.

There is something surrounding him, something hard but invisible. It reminds him of Merlin's _Perfect Cube_ , only the power that is surging around him is very, very menacing. Meliodas punches at the wall, once, twice, pounding his fists again and again, but nothing happens, not even a crack. His eyes fly wildly to Lynette, who is watching him with a cruel smile, the edge of her lips all wrong. How could she have learned to do this? She wasn't a mage. Only a powerful witch could keep him trapped like this.

"Lynette!" he screams. "Stop this!" Behind her he can see Tristan approaching, the mark on his forehead positively pulsing with energy. He watches as Lynette turns, swinging the hammer, and the two lock together again, the roar of their weapons deafening. Tristan thrusts his sword, narrowly missing as he tries to run her through, and Lynette spins, bearing her own sword down on him, which he blocks with his arm. Meliodas' mouth drops open in horror, his stomach twisting. They are both fighting to kill, and he can do nothing to stop it.

* * *

Elizabeth stands as close to the window as she dares, watching as Meliodas sprints across the yard. "What the hell has gotten into those two?" Ban grumbles next to her.

"Have they… do they…?" Elizabeth swallows as she turns to look at the others, but only Merlin meets her gaze. "No, Your Grace," she answers. "They've never done this before. And the power that they are putting out now… it's almost as if-"

"Is that Arondight?" Ban suddenly snaps, as Elizabeth's eyes go back to Meliodas. There is another explosion, rock and dust flying everywhere. Then he is pulling something out of the wall, yanking it free, and he and Lynette fall to the ground. She clutches her hands together in front of her mouth as the two stand for a moment… and then jumps as Ban screams, "Lancelot! _Lancelot!_ "

She sees it too, through the dust of the newest explosion. King is hovering over a body on the ground, Diane crouched and shaking it, and the Spirit Spear flies through the air, laying to rest next to the body. "He's hurt! Lancelot!" Ban shouts, trying to catch their attention, before his red eyes look over to her.

Elizabeth gasps as a hand grabs her arm painfully. "He's hurt, let's go," Ban grounds out, but as he is about to follow the others out the window with Elizabeth in tow, Merlin steps in their way. "Don't you fucking-!"

"You can't take the queen out there," Merlin says. Her voice is low, and soothing, but even Elizabeth can hear the edge of warning. "It's too dangerous."

"Get the fuck out of my way," Ban yells, and then swings his free arm, his fist aimed straight for her. Elizabeth shouts for him to stop, trying to pull away.

His blow does not land, however, because Escanor catches his fist in a firm grip. "Don't do that," he warns, his voice deepening, his body expanding as he pushes them backwards.

Ban snarls like a wild thing. Escanor releases his fist, and before Elizabeth can blink Ban brings his elbow down, crashing into the side of the Lion Sin's head. Escanor takes a step to the side, stumbling a bit, and Ban uses the opportunity to kick him in the stomach, sending the growing man out the window.

He gives Merlin a shove to the side for good measure and he leaps out himself, still gripping the queen's arm tightly. Elizabeth tries to scream as they fall, but the rushing wind takes her breath away. Ban catches her before she crashes to the ground, and then he is half-pulling, half-dragging her across the yard, sprinting to where King is shouting over Lancelot's body.

"This isn't supposed to happen!" King's voice is in hysterics, shrill and piercing, "Why! Why?!"

When they arrive, Ban shoves Diane out of the way before falling down to his own knees, Lancelot laid out on the ground right in front of him, as his father grabs him up. "What happened?! Lancelot! _Lancelot!_ " Ban yells, shaking the boy before bringing a hand up to his hair, tilting his head up. He looks over his shoulder at Elizabeth, who is watching with her hand clutched over her mouth, and snarls, "Help him!"

"Elizabeth, please, please," Diane cries, choking back a heaving sob as she grabs her wrist and pulls her desperately forward. "He's not breathing, he's not moving." Elizabeth tries to shake herself from her daze, hurrying around to land on the ground in front of Ban, who has taken him into his lap, and Elizabeth swallow a heavy feeling in her throat. But even then, she knows what this sinking feeling in her stomach means.

He truly looks so small in his father's arm, just a little boy. There is still a large towel over his abdomen, but as her shaking hands peel it back- as Ban makes a broken sound while the wound underneath is uncovered- her hands going out over the boy's still form; _she knows._ She moves them along the length of his torso, hovering with a jerk over the area of his heart. But there is too much blood, too much _missing_. His color is gray, his chest won't move, and Elizabeth knows there is no bringing him back. She can not bring him back.

She chokes on a sob, jerking her hands back to cover her face.

She looks up at Ban through her tears, but the Fox Sin just sits there. He doesn't change, there aren't tears and his face doesn't crumbles; he sits there unmoving on the ground as Diane let's out sob after sob, as King tilts his head upwards towards the sky, rolling tears overflowing his cheeks. His fingers just clench open and shut in the boy's ripped shirt, smoothing back his hair. There is a terrible silence then, and Elizabeth weeps into her hands, her shoulders shaking. She tries to get a hold of herself, but the sight of Ban's blank expression, the silent, unnoticed tears finally beginning that slowly slide down his cheeks, it is more devastating than if he was crying and screaming and cursing the world outright. But, then King's voice snaps her out of it.

"They did this," he says menacingly from above them, and she looks up at him sharply. She had never heard his voice so filled with- with- with _this much rage_ , utterly filled to the point of agony and devastation, and horrifyingly _vengeful._ Her own horror is momentarily forgotten as the Fairy King hovers above them, his entire body stiff, his hands clenched and his head bowed low.

A powerful violence rolls off of him, and Elizabeth gasps as she realizes what he meant by _they_. "S-Sir King," Elizabeth voice cracks, but King just lifts his face barely, his eyes facing towards where Tristan and Lynette are fighting once again, and he says, "I'll kill them both."

"No." Ban says, very very blandly, "not if _I do_." His voice rips into a horrid snarl at the end, and he slowly climbs to his feet- laying Lancelot's back down with all the care, gently placing him at his feet. Elizabeth scrambles up after him, reaching out to grab his jacket. "No! No, please wait- Please don't do this!" her voice rises in her panic, but he makes no sign he hears her, and without a word Ban flicks his arm out.

Elizabeth cries out as she is knocked backwards, slamming into the ground uncaringly by the powerful Fox Sin, who swats her away as if she is no more than a fly. She lands in a heap on the ground, trying not to panic as Diane leaps towards her, holding her up by the shoulders, "Elizabeth! Are you ok?!" The shrunken giant whirls around, tears still going down her cheeks as she snarls, "You could've really hurt her!" They aren't listening, Ban racing towards the prince and princess, King appearing to simply disappear to Elizabeth's eyes. "Ban! King!" Diane calls for them to stop before taking off right behind them.

" _Stop!"_ Elizabeth looks around wildly, trying to figure out what to do, wondering where is Meliodas? Then, another thought hits her:

 _Where is Jason?_

 _No… no no no…_

The fear grows rapidly as she stays frozen on the ground, her hands trembling, helplessly watching as the others begin fighting. Dirt and rocks go flying as Lynette hits Tristan with a burst of magic, and he flies back and slams into the ground with a cry; meanwhile, King shouts a command from above, Chastiefol transforming into dozens of small blades that go whizzing towards both of them.

She easily swings her giant hammer around with an annoyed tilt of the head, not even looking as she stops them in place, and King yells in surprise, his hand extending for another attack as he rises higher- but then Ban leaps forward, aiming a series of kicks at her; his face twisted and dark as Lynette dodges, allowing only a few to land on her arms or the handle of her hammer before she thrusts the weapon forward with a speed that blurs, hitting him hard enough in the chest to cave it in, and throws him back across the yard to land with a plume of smoke by the gates.

"Lynette! Stop!" she screams, frenzied as she stumbles up. Elizabeth hears Meliodas' voice echo hers suddenly, and she turns and spies him trapped inside the shifting field of magic. "Meliodas!" she gasps, scrambling to her feet and towards him- but then Merlin is there, appearing with a teleport and steps in front of her, stopping her.

"Stay here, Elizabeth," she says sternly, but Elizabeth clutches the mage, frantically saying, "Meliodas! Please help him! They are going to kill…" She can't bring herself to say it.

"I would not advise advancing, Princess." Gowther is there too, but thankfully Merlin nods to Elizabeth's plea and moves away with another order for her to _stay put_.

Unsure of what to do or how to help, she watches a scene of chaos unfolding. Escanor has joined the fight, as he and Diane try to stop Lynette's attacks while also trying to stop Ban from ripping her apart. The three groups cross path as Diane pleads with King, using creation to force stone in their way just as one of Lynette's hits her in the back, the force knocking her several yards, before she crashes into King. Escanor steps forward, swinging his axe towards Lynette. She takes the blow across her back, falling to one knee with a spay of blood; then she thrusts her sabre out, calling, " _Retaliation_." with an annoyed huff.

Escanor is flung back to his utter surprise, despite her weapon barely glancing him; and Lynette slowly climbs to her feet, her eyes dark and her scowl cruel.

 _How?_ Elizabeth wonders. _How can she be so powerful?_

They try over and over to stop her, but somehow Lynette blocks every attack, sending out her own over and over, engaging in combat with Ban and Escanor and whatever unfortunate knights manage to get close enough. One by one she drives them back, until they are scattered across the yard, struggling to regroup as she rocks the ground again with a strike of her hammer.

 _She's fighting against the Seven Deadly Sins. She's fighting and winning._

But, it is Tristan again, finally moving now, who manages to stand and approach with the others sidelined. " _Targeted Strike_ ," he says, his voice sending a chill through Elizabeth, and he holds his sword out in front of him, a massive bolt of energy forming along the length of the blade. Elizabeth shouts for him to stop, but instead he snaps the tip of the sword at Lynette, the attack flying and burning everything it came across, before hitting the girl head-on and sending her crashing backwards.

Everything is still for a moment as the attacks stop flying, a eerie quiet causing Elizabeth's ears to ring from the thunderous blow. She raises an arm to cover her face, peering through the dust to see if Lynette survived as her entire body trembles.

The only thing she can see is Tristan, standing perfectly straight as he slowly lowers his sword, his back to her.

She rushes forward, calling his name as her voice cracks, and as she reaches him she grabs hold of his torn shirt. "Tristan? _Tristan?_ " she hisses, her hands cupping his face, pulling it down to look at hers. His eyes are dark and blank for a moment, and she whispers harshly, "Tristan? Are you hurt?"

He blinks a few times as she swipes his hair back with fretting hands, and then he shakes off the haze, his eyes finally focusing back into the familiar blue as he finally _sees_ her. "Mom?" his voice is hoarse, cracking at the ending. "Mom, I- Lynette- she-" His chest shakes as he rapidly tries to draw breath, and Elizabeth presses her energy forward in order to calm him.

"It's okay," she says firmly. "Are you hurt?"

"No- no, but Lancelot- _he's dead_." His eyes go wide, shining wildly as he tries to look around, and Elizabeth nods, her fingers brushing against his skin to soothe him as he jerks against her touch.

"I know," she whispers, and Tristan's face crumbles. "Did I kill her?" he finally wails, trying to look over Elizabeth's shoulder but she shakes her head, unable and unwilling to look for herself just yet as she squeezes him close.

Tristan wheezes, his hands going to her wrist to push her away, but Elizabeth calls to him sharply. "Tristan! Don't!" His eyes return to hers and she asks, "Where is Jason?"

He gasps, his breathing coming in short intakes before shaking his head. "I don't- I don't know," he stammers.

"I do _hate_ demons."

Elizabeth flinches at the hisses breath, and she can feel Tristan stiffen against her as she finally turns around.

"Don't worry," Lynette's voice calls to them. Her daughter, who is so beautiful and strong and kind, glares at them savagely. She is covered in darkness now: her clothes and armor the color of black tar, her blue eyes focused into little black orbs, even her long blonde hair, blowing wildly around her, now the color of night sky. But there is no demon mark, none that Elizabeth can see, and she wonders again, _how_?

"Lynette!" Meliodas is screaming from inside his prison, pounding on the walls. "Don't do this! Please!"

"You asked about Jason?" she continues, ignoring him completely, and Tristan steps protectively in front of Elizabeth. "Don't worry about him, _Mommy."_ She chuckles cruelly then, her head tilting a bit with a mocking snort. "Of course, you're not our mother, are you? Just another piece to be pulled out and knocked over to make sure this entire place falls." She brings a hand up, waving it around with an air of lazy boredom.

"What did you do with him?" Tristan shouts wildly.

Lynette narrows her eyes on him. "I can't believe you're still alive." She brings a hand up to her forehead, poking right above her right eyebrow, "I guess you got more of the demon than I did, after all. How annoying." Her fingers slide along the hilt of her hammer. "I guess I should have picked you for _help._ I will take good care of Jason. He's been a help to me this long, I would _never_ let my precious child be taken from me. Not _ever_ again."

"What does she mean?" Elizabeth gasps softly, her mind whirling, but from the corners of her eyes she can see the others moving, Ban standing with a growl, his body finally healed from the terrible battering he had taken. Diane stumbles up, with a tight hold on King's arm.

"You're dead," Ban says over the yard, and she laughs, "So eager to join your son, are you?" her eyes move to the side, the movement as wrong as the rest of her, and she smiles brightly, making fake weeping sounds, "Oh Lancelot, Lancelot _Lancelot."_

Ban shouts as he runs towards her, ignoring Meliodas yells for him to stop- but before he can reach her Lynette holds out the hammer, slamming the ending of the staff into the ground.

A ringing sound overwhelms them, as energy shoots out, covering them like a blanket. Elizabeth cries out, a twisting, shooting pain searing up her neck, and she falls to her knees, nearly blind with the feeling of fire under her skin.

"Mom!" Tristan shouts, trying to pull her up as he wraps his body around her, and Elizabeth leans back, her fingers digging into the searing mark, her eyes swimming with tears as she looks up at Lynette. Her figure shifting and swimming in her vision, before the energy swims around them- blocking the world out.

"Since you're all so interested in fighting," she says, "then I'll be happy to oblige you."

Then, the world shifts. The tugging is back, yanking Elizabeth so hard that she feels as though her very soul will be pulled out through her neck. The wind is whipping around them, roaring in her ears, and she can hear the others shouting, cursing and throwing out attacks that hit nothing even as Lynette laughs. "Mom! Hold on!" Tristan yells, his hands gripping her tightly, before it all stops.

After a moment, Elizabeth opens her eyes. She is looking down, but instead of the grass of the training yard, there is just dirt and rock on the ground. She looks around, the air suddenly choking, thick with dust, instead of the cool air of the autumn morning- and the other Knights are gone, only the nine of them standing here. And it is dark, so dark, the midmorning sun gone, replaced by a scattering of stars and the moon in the sky, which is now night.

 _What?_ Her heart thunders in her chest, wondering if it is happening again, if she is slipping away, maybe for good this time. She cries out in fear, but the hands are still there, holding her shoulders, and Tristan's face looms in her vision, his eyes just as wide and confused as her own. "Mom? Are you alright?"

"What happened?" she's trembling, turning as she pulls her hand from her neck, everything groggy. The other are there too, climbing to their feet in confusion, Meliodas still trapped inside the cage of magic. But... Lynette is gone.

"Where did that bitch go?" Ban snarls, as Diane shouts, "Where are we?"

"Hey," King says. "This looks… familiar."

They all pause, looking around. Then something flashes in the sky, and they all look up.

Seven streaks of light flash across the darkness, looking like falling stars before they crash into the ground. The group instinctively pulls together, and then Meliodas shouts, "No! Get out of here!" She turns and looks at him as he yells, "Someone get Elizabeth out of here, now!"

The terror in his voice and on his face causes her panic to come roaring back. "Oh no," Merlin breathes beside her, and Elizabeth turns and follows her gaze.

There, standing in the dust settling in the moonlight, stand the Ten Commandments.


	26. Time For Revelation

A/N: While writing this chapter I watched weeks worth of Law and Order, I ate enough pizza to feed a family of six, and I may or may not have sobbed over a toilet, while projectile vomiting over a picture of Lance Bass. I have gained six pounds. Lickitysplit took time out of her busy life to comfort me, but mostly to join me in the madness that has taken over our once simple lives. God Bless coffee. (Lickitysplit here: it really wasn't that dramatic. We just took our time so we could find out what the devil was going on in the manga, and how it would affect this story.) (Woundedowl here: one of us is being overdramatic, one of us is telling the truth of reality and it's harsh mistress. It could be either of us, who knows)

Cerulean Grace: Yes, we did throw in all the things at once, didn't we? Tristan, our poor poor Tristan. A lot of readers including you think he's getting the bad end of the stick. Hehehehhe, it worries us that you don't know what's going on- but it will get better? Maybe?

sassykitten1701: Hell, a lot of stuff is happening dude, don't you worry.

Lunabellla: Mmmhmm, yep. Kind of late for that love.

BettyBest2: Ah love. Whenever we see you review, we always love to read it. Your reactions are the best part of getting feedback, you are lovely and wonderful! Yes Meliodas is surprised, just because his son is his mini-me, he was hoping so much that his children took after Elizabeth, maybe he was in complete denial that any of them could be like him. This is also Tristan's first experience with true danger, so his demon side is just now revealing itself.

confused: Lancelot is dead.

SirensEye91: OOOOOOH YEAAA. Because we may be slightly evil. Thank you love, we really do appreciate you, and a little torture always makes the love go down just a little better hehehe.

Leanna23: Thank you, we are super happy that you like it.

Peacerockgirl123: Yep yep, *passes you a paper bag to breathe into* You'll need this. *passes over a bottle of rum* you'll also need this.

hiyomi: Thank you love! Gowther you say? Well, why would he do that, Gowther is an outstanding citizen!

kayla. panek: Yea, we like to throw so much into our stories we actually have an entire wall step up with pie charts and pictures and different colored little strings tying everything together. This might be a tad unhealthy, but it is super fun. Mmmhmm, only time will tell, we suppose.

Chapter twenty six: Time for Revelation

* * *

Dirt and rocks are swirling around them, and Tristan ducks, coughing while he brings his arm down, blinking rapidly to try to slow the vertigo that has his head spinning. He doesn't have time to take in his surroundings as his whips his head to the side, spotting the shivering body by his feet. "Mom!" he calls and lunges forward, hefting her into his arms as she lays almost motionless in the blackened dirt. "Mom- Mother- are you alright?" he asks desperately-

Before he stops and hisses through clenched teeth. His forehead twinges with coursing _power,_ and he tries to ignore it. His hearts are thundering in his chest, his focus sharp from it, and he pulls her up from where they landed. Tristan searches her face for any pain, and he- he suddenly needs to do something. _Anything_ but stay crouched down on the ground; he has to go back to the fight. He _has_ to.

Lifting her chin he sees how her face is squeezed up and red in pain, her hand clawing at the back of her neck, and his first thought is to find his father.

 _Where? Where the hell are they?_

"Wha- what happened?" she croaks, her eyes opening before darting around without any clear focus, and that worries him greatly. He can see the slight glaze, can _see_ how she is spacing out even though she's trying not to, her body trembling under his hands. He tries to rub her arms reassuringly as she pulls her hand from her neck, her fingers twitching, and her shoulders jerk under his soothing hands.

"I'm not sure," he mutters, climbing to his feet. Shit, he can't deal with this. He needs to find someone- anyone who could take his mother to a safe location while he deals with Lynette.

 _Fuck. Fuck, Lynette._

They are all but alone- the fifty or so knights that had been with them a few seconds ago are _gone._ Only a handful of them are left. Helping her up to her feet Elizabeth leans heavily against him, and he thinks about the time he had to carry her down from Vaizel... when he held her as they faced off against the thieves, as she lay unconscious or screaming or not moving as he tried to save her. He clenches his jaw, keeping his face calm and straight as he tries to stay a pillar of strength. He can't falter now.

He's had a really, _really_ bad week.

He has no time to be afraid, but damn it... _Damn it his forehead is burning._ He needs to punch something. Yeah, that might do it. Maybe if he just got out there and had the chance to stab a damn idiot with his sword he'd be better. Or better yet, if he has the chance to slit Lynette's throat with the sharp edge of-

He shakes his head, trying to snap out of it. It, what _ever_ this power was, was overflowing and _buzzing_ under his skin; his breathing is shaking, his grip on his sword tight. Damn it damn it _damn it._

 _Vaizel_ … He looks around, bringing the hand not supporting Elizabeth up to push his bangs over his forehead, trying to hide it, wanting to hide his mark as best as he can. This place is eerily familiar, but, no... it couldn't be Vaizel, the broken landscape and strange rock formations reminding him of that awful place. But there's something wrong. It's night, and his eyes adjust slowly to the darkness after fighting in the brightness of late morning. They are no longer at the castle, that is certain, but there is something about this place that tugs at his memory. _That's impossible_. For a moment he panics, wondering if this is the curse, if he just _thinks_ he sees this…

But then, to his relief, King says what he has been wondering himself. "Hey, this looks… familiar…" and Tristan finally looks behind him. The Sins are all here, just as confused as he is.

"Where did that bitch go?" Ban snarls, as Diane shouts, "Where are we?"

His father is still in that prison, and the sound of him kicking it, with much more force than Tristan could probably ever imagine, is muted as the walls barely rattle against his foot. He sees the king's face twist in anger as he brings his fist down, again and again with enough force to swirl the air inside of his cage.

Nothing.

That is another thing: how the hell did Lynette even _do_ that? None of them have _ever_ bested their father in a fight- it wasn't even on the table- let alone ever make any of the other Sins break a sweat. And here they all were covered in blood and gashes, King looking worse for wear and all of Ban's clothes ripped to shreds. His formal suit was barely hanging on, lying in tatters by his hips.

The others are talking over each other, Ban cracking his neck as he stalks off in a random direction, before Diane all but yelps- grabbing hold of him by the hair and _pulling him back._

"OW OW OW! Damn it, let _go_!" Ban snarls, his long hair yanked downwards as Diane screams, twisting her hands into a fist, and she plants her foot before tugging with all her might as Ban's eyes bug out in pain. "No!" she yells, both of them fumbling as they struggle, "You and King are staying right here! You got me?! There is no way I'm letting you-!"

Suddenly seven bolts of light flash across the sky, a high pitched whistling drowning out everything else as they shoot above them. Tristan has no idea what they are, but the energy that is coming from them is _immense_ , nauseatingly so, and his stomach twists in dread.

"Oh no," Merlin breathes behind him, and he hears Gowther say, "Fascinating," just as everyone closes rank, leaping into position while raising their weapons. Elizabeth gasps, her fingers digging into the metal guard on his arm. "What is that?" he breathes, his hair standing up on end as the air becomes electrified by the magic being thrown haphazardly around.

"No! Get out of here!" Tristan jolts at the sound of his father's muffled scream, his head snapping back to quickly look around in confusion at the others, just as the lights land a short distance away.

The ground explodes, rocks flying out of the impact zone, a dark plume of smoke rising up. A burst of air kicks up and outwards, pushing him back as he flings an arm in front of his mother, shielding her as he tries to squints through the dark plume. His feet slide back as his mother cries out in surprise against his chest, and everyone looks absolutely grim, all calm pretenses gone. The cloud of dust and dirt kicks up around them, swirling, and the entire area is covered by a thick cloud that sets him off coughing again. "Someone get Elizabeth out of here, _now!"_

"Mom?" Tristan whispers, turning to look at her, and the fear on her face all but makes him freeze. Then he hears Merlin say, again, "Oh no," - and now he knows for sure that whatever is happening, it is very, _very_ bad _._

"No way…!" King looks terrified, his face white as his fists shake by his side. "How?!"

They all watch as the cloud begins to dissipate. Standing a few paces away, giving off waves of violent energy… Tristan had _never_ felt anything like this in his entire life, the massive malicious intent coming off of them. Who are these monsters? His sword is still out from when he was battling in the castle courtyard, but now his blade feels more like a butter knife in front of these titans.

Tristan blinks rapidly in the swirling dirt, peering closely as he tries to make out the various figures that now stand before them. Grinding his teeth he takes in the strange sight: several look human even if they feel nothing like it, and there is a giant and a fairy among them, but one looks like a blob of masks… and one, he thinks is a woman? She's floating, even though she was _absolutely burned to a crisp._ They all have a dark swirl over their brows, black sludge covering different areas. They are staring back at them, seemingly just as confused by the sudden meeting.

They feel… They feel familiar, and he can almost recognize the type of magic they have… but Tristan just can't put his finger on it.

"That's…" one of them drawls lowly, a tall blond guy, his head tilting to the side, " _strangely_ interesting."

His mother whimpers as his voice trails off, and Tristan swallows. "What's going on?" he says softly. She shakes against him and he says, "Take deep breaths mom, just breathe. I need you to talk to me." But she just squeezes herself into a smaller ball, a hand over her mouth, and Tristan is truly worried that she is holding her breath as she turns another shade of white.

"I thought you said they were gone," says another of the group, and Tristan's eyes widen as he examines the newcomer. He realizes that despite his jet black hair and the hard set of his eyes, looks a lot like- _his father?_

 _What?_ Tristan's eyes jump between the two of them as he stands up straighter. Looking between this man's entire posture, he had never seen anyone else so closely resembling his father- outside of himself. And he had always thought their height and build were just family related. So, so who was...

"They were," the giant answers loudly, cutting off Tristan's train of thought as the guy slowly climbs to his feet, and the prince notes the injuries that cover his blue skin, and his four arms, and Tristan tries not to gape at the energy that is coming at them from this group.

"Well I guess we can take care of it. Again." Another member of the group looks nonplussed as a couple of grins appear, and Tristan's eyes involuntarily make their way back to the man with black hair, and freezes when he sees him looking right back at him.

"Why is this happening again?" Elizabeth voice is so soft it's almost inaudible, shaking alongside her hands.

"Well," Merlin chuckles, a trail of sweat going down the side of her face, her grin slightly grim, "It looks like we have traveled through time. We've been pulled back into the past, back to Vaizel."

 _No,_ there was no _way._

There aren't any answers after that, both sides waiting for the other to move first it seems, and Diane murmurs harshly, "What do we do?"

"We can't fight them all at once," King hisses, even as his Chastiefol flashes by his side.

"Defeating the Ten Commandments without the Captain will prove nearly impossible," Gowther comments.

"Oh come on Gowther," Ban snarks, "Where's your fighting spirit?"

 _The Ten Commandments_? Tristan thinks, all but wanting to laugh hysterically. _The real Ten Commandments?_ This is an absurd situation. People don't just _suddenly_ start fighting the _Ten Commandments._ But his stomach drops, his throat going dry as he tries to swallow, and he can feel his courage beginning to fail. He knows of them; hell, everyone in his generation has heard of their terrible campaign, sometimes it was all people _could_ talk about while they were having a tankard of ale in their hand. Retelling the horror stories of the war, how they had murdered hundreds of thousands, maybe a million people across the world. But, from everything he had heard- which really wasn't anything too reliable- he knows they were one of the greatest threats to ever come to Britannia. They were the soldiers of the Demon King himself, unsealed and twisted into monsters uncomparable. They were the ones who killed his father, in Vaizel, all those years ago, a story he had always wanted to hear but never had the nerve to ask about.

 _Vaizel? Is this… is this really Vaizel? Twenty five years ago, where this version of his mother came from?_

"We don't need to," Ban grinds out, snapping Tristan back into focus as he flexes his hands, and suddenly the man is different: crueler-looking than Tristan has ever seen. And he knows that The Seven Deadly Sin, The Fox Sin of Greed, is now standing there. "We just need to keep them back long enough to find that murdering bitch." His mouth twists into a nasty grin, "Yeah. Then I'll make her put us back where we belong before I snap her neck."

" _Ban,"_ Meliodas hisses, his fingers clawing into the wall, his teeth grinding. The hairs on Tristan's arms stand up at the threat, his mind whirling that they are talking about the Ten Commandments, and that Ban just said he was actually going to kill his sister. Ban, their uncle, their-

Tristan's eyes squeeze shut for a moment, a vision of Lancelot _painfully_ passing over his mind; of something he once thought was so annoying- how he would alway joke about _everything._ But before he can say anything, Elizabeth pleads, "Sir Ban, please, you _can't-"_

"Stay out of this," he snaps coldly, and then turns back to the others. "Are you ready?" Ban cracks his neck loudly, and abruptly starts to walk _towards_ those monsters.

Tristan grips his sword tightly, his fingers going white, ready to move with the rest. The one who looks like his father is still staring back at him. _Just staring at him,_ and he is filled with the most horrible doubt he has ever experienced. Should he try to retreat, to regroup once they had a plan? But every instinct in him screams to _fight_.

But, before any of them can go, Merlin steps in front of the group, holding out a hand to halt them. "Stop! Don't get ahead of yourselves! If we change anything too drastically, we won't be able to get back to where we belong."

"What-" Tristan is cut off by the others, as Merlin keeps her back to them, one arm outstretched.

"Does that mean we can't kill them?" Ban growls. "I wouldn't mind getting my hands on that bitch Merascylla one more time."

"That you can actually do," she muses. "And you can leave Greylord to me. But no, we can't kill the rest. In fact, it's best if we don't engage them at all, since it was Captain who fought them originally."

"How exactly do you propose that?" King bites out. "He isn't exactly able to fight right now."

One of them- the tall blond- seems done with them speaking to each other, starting to steadily stroll towards them with a lazy gait.

"I'll do it," says Tristan, eyeing him. The rest look at him in surprise, and Diane immediately shakes her head to say no while Meliodas bangs on the side of his prison, shouting, "You are _not_ fighting them! You guys are not letting him fight them!"

 _But there isn't time for this!_ he thinks angrily. "Someone has to," he snarls, glancing over at his father, who looks absolutely furious as he pushes his mother behind him. He turns back towards the Commandments as she hurries backward, stumbling only slightly as she goes towards his father, and sees they have all begun to advance. "You'll back me up, right?" Tristan says nervously.

"If you're all done talking now!" one of the Commandments, the burned to a crisp lady, calls out, purring the words.

"Tristan! You can't-"

"There's no time!" he answers harshly, clenching his sword tightly to keep his hand from shaking. "I'll fight them alone if I have to!"

"Tristan!"

He lunges, sparing Ban a sideways glance as he appears alongside him. "Find Lynette!" The prince snaps, and he swings around, "lI'll stall them. Then we can all get out of here!"

"Hell yeah!" Ban howls, his teeth showing in a vicious snarl, "now this I can get behind!"

Across the rocky field, the black-haired leader tilts his head forward, his eyes sweeping over them. "Enough _talking._ Get them."

Tristan draws in a deep breath and picks up his pace, holding his sword out to the side. Behind him, he hears Meliodas scream, "All of you, go! Now!"

It happens so fast, Tristan does not even have time to blink as he calls out _Massive Strike,_ feeling his magic burn the area the Ten Commandments once stood. The Seven Deadly Sins move at the same time as they do; instantly they are locked in combat, both magical and physical attacks causing the very ground to shake, the air to rattle- boulders and rocks and steel going in every direction. He watches in shock as one of the Commandments, a woman, seems to take Ban out with a series of punches as Tristan ducks and dives to the side- barely missing sharp vines aimed towards his head. The burned woman is stopped only when King sends Chastiefol, slicing through her arm and earning a scream of rage as she pulls a large ball of darkness around her- Gowther narrowly dodging an attack that looks like a giant, screeching bird made out of dark flame. Meanwhile, Diane is swinging a miniature Gideon- where the hell did she get it?- at another Commandment, who stops her easily with one hand and sends her flying backwards with just a swipe of his sword.

There's a loud boom, Tristan ducking again as thousands of knives hail down from the sky, and Ban is fighting two at once, blood spraying from his body as he cackles, taking their attacks without being able to land even half of his own. "Escanor!" he shouts. "Time to get big!" He snarls, landing a hard and crunching punch to a dark haired man wearing armor, a few teeth going flying. Only to then be punched straight through his abdomen, his pelvis shattering as a women wearing nothing grins ferally.

To Tristan's surprise, Escanor is back to his shrunken form, looking like a tired, skinny old man in the middle of the fray. "Well- well perhaps if I-" he stammers, "Well, this is quite embarrassing-" before yelping, jumping out of the way as the giant's foot nearly stomps on top of him. "Fuuuuck-" Ban gurgles as he is flung back, and Tristan quickly sends another _Targeted Strike,_ catching the woman off-guard as she yelps, hitting the ground hard to give Ban time to recover.

There is shouting from all around him now, magic attacks being called one after another mingled with screams and grunts of effort, his father shouting at them behind him.

He whirls around, and finds himself standing directly across from the black-haired leader- and he stops, the hairs on the back of his neck raising. The one who looks suspiciously like his father. The one with a symbol on his forehead not unlike his own.

"Who are you?" he asks Tristan, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips. He hasn't drawn his weapon yet, the man looking completely unbothered by the earth-shattering war going on inches away from the two of them.

"Does it matter?" replies the prince, a now-familiar heat flaring across his forehead as he readies his weapon. The demon's eyes flicker upwards, widening momentarily in surprise. Then they drag down his face, taking him in and sizing him up and down, before he finally gives one harsh chuckle. "I think I know exactly who you are," he says. He walks towards Tristan again, his shoulders hunched, and Tristan swallows in alarm when he sees the demon has yet to draw his sword. The power coming from him washes over him in waves. He quickly tries to calculate what his power level must be, but it's impossible. His father, the king, is the strongest man he knows. His parents, his family are the only ones who had ever made it past Grand Master Gilthunder's level- he had never _faced_ anyone like this. And yet, the amount he could sense now, not only from the Commandments, but from the Sins fighting around him, his father who is still shouting behind him, it is completely overwhelming.

It was like this was the first time seeing any of them. He had known they were holding back his entire life, but to know it was by this extent? He was like a speck of dirt.

The demon now stands only a few steps away, eerily calm, and Tristan squeezes the hilt of his sword. Once more he looks him up and down as Tristan narrows his eyes, debating on whether or not to advance first- ignoring the shaking in his hands, the sweat gathering in his palms as his hearts race and scream at him to fight. Tristan sees that they really are the same height, the same build, as the man finally stops a few feet back.

"Aren't you going to try to run?" he sneers, tilting his head to the side. "Try."

Yeah, he was _not_ going to try that.

Then his father shouts, startling him enough to flinch. "Zeldris!" Meliodas _screams._ "Your fight is with me. Get away from him!" The hairs on the back of his neck raise at the sound of the king's voice; malice mixed with a pang of anxiety.

The demon named Zeldris does not respond, however, his eyes still fixed on his forehead. "You have a demon mark, I see." His brows draw down a bit before he continues, "Perhaps if you somehow manage to survive this, you will have a chance to comprehend what it really means."

"Zeldris!" Meliodas growls in absolute fury.

The demon's eyes flicker over his shoulder, and Tristan takes it as his chance. Planting one foot in the ground, he spins, putting every ounce of his power into a kick at the demon's chest. Zeldris goes flying backwards, seemingly unprepared for the sudden assault; but before Tristan even completes his move, the demon twists his body and lands unharmed, glaring at him before he slams head-first into Tristan and lands easily on both feet; the prince, however, crashes backwards with a spray of blood from his now broken nose, skittering across the rock like a ragdoll as his sight blackens and pain screams through his head.

There's a high-pitched ringing, everything going white and then black with spots, and his only truly clear thought afterwards is, _he hits harder than Lynette._

He shakes his head to try clear it, putting his arms out to try to push up, but only collapses on his stomach. He can't seem to even get up on his hands and knees, and looks over with shaky vision to see the demon now scowling down at him as he fails to get up a second time. "Oh. You won't be surviving this after all," he says.

Tristan pushes again, trying his best to move, as the demon begins to approach. Meliodas is shouting again, and somewhere he can hear the princess- no, he can hear his mother screaming, although through the pain he cannot make out what they are saying. He blinks again and again, trying to see, trying to _move_ , as the black boots come closer and closer.

He swings his arm up, swiping desperately with his sword, the strangled words of his magic ability gurgled by the blood in his mouth; but then, before he knows what has happened, before he even _sees_ Zeldris draw his own sword, a flare of hot, intense, searing heat shoots across his arm. He screams, the sound echoing over the valley and cutting through the fighting, and Tristan turns to see what it is…

Unbelievably, he realizes that everything below his shoulder is gone.

Gaping, he looks back up at Zeldris. The demon is scowling at him, a look of pure disgust glaring down at him for his weakness, for his very existence. One hand is on the hilt of his sword, the other holding Tristan's arm by the wrist, the dismembered hand still clutching Tristan's weapon.

Very far away, under the sound of rushing blood in Tristan's ears he hears Meliodas scream his name. But everything has gone numb to him: his body and the sounds around him and the terror that has seized his chest. Tristan collapses onto his back as Zeldris drops his arm into the dirt without ceremony, slowly drawing his sword from its sheath. And Tristan tries- he tries to get up, pushing off the ground with his other arm as blood begins to pool, his shirt and the ground slowly being soaked- but he can _feel_ his hearts sputter, trying to pump what he was quickly losing.

"Meliodas," he says, Zeldris' eyes raising slightly to look above the place where Tristan is still on the ground. "My elder brother."

His words hit Tristan like a physical blow, his mind unable to comprehend as gasps for air. "If it wasn't for you, we never would have had to taste defeat." The sound of the metal blade scraping out of its sheath shakes Tristan to the very bone. And he looks up, the worst of the demons standing right above him now, his blade inches away. "Your betrayal, by itself, led to the loss of the demon race. Tell me, does your son take after you?"

"What? _What?"_ Panic is rising in his throat, his face pale white as Tristan tries to understand. He's shaking- why is he shaking? His eyes move back and forth between the sight of his arm on the ground, and the sword Zeldris is now holding. Is he going to die? Here? Only minutes after Lancelot? "With your death, one of our vengeances would have been completed." Then Zeldris looks down at Tristan, his mouth pressed together with a vicious frown. "I suppose your son will suffice instead for now."

 _Son. Brother? This Commandment was..._

 _He was going to die._

" _Tristan!"_ Meliodas' scream comes again, the heart-wrenching yell like nothing he had ever heard his father make before, but they are still so very far away, and Zeldris was raising his sword- he was going to- Tristan's eyes go wide, his body tensing as he waits for the blow-

When suddenly the demon's hand explodes in a flash of white fire.

Zeldris cries out in anger more than agony, his sword falling to the ground with a clatter, and he gives a terrible snarl as he raises his now ruined arm. There is nothing left of his hand but a smoldering, smoking skeleton, and his face flashes up, his eyes showing nothing but pure malice. " _You,"_ he says, his eyes focusing to Tristan's left.

And there is another bright, intense light.

" _Perfect Cube_."

Zeldris isn't standing over him anymore. The commandment raises his head once the light clears, scowling as he goes to move forward, but cannot go more than a step before he slams into a field of energy, stopping him in his tracks. Tristan watches in bewilderment, disbelief, his mind still not able to grasp what is happening he sees the outline of more cubes in the background, the Sins splitting off from the battle ground. Then- then suddenly Princess Elizabeth is there, kneeling next to him and pulling him against her, and Tristan's head falls heavily on her shoulder.

Elizabeth- no, no. His mother wraps her arms around him, pressing her face on the side of his head, and Tristan can feel the dampness of her tears as they spill on him and the shuddering of her chest as she hiccups a loud trembling sob. The loss of blood and the throbbing in his shoulder make his head spin, everything feeling too far away, but as soon as her hands touch him there is a soothing calm that starts to slowly slide over him, moving through his veins and his muscles and down his ruined arm. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out except a croak.

"Here," she says harshly, her voice quiet but full of authority. "Please, please Tristan! Here!" He wonders what she wants him to do when a jolt of electricity shoots through his shoulder, and he cries out in shock, the surprise more than the pain making him look down. The pangs that shoot through where his arm had been sliced off pull his mind sharply back to clarity, and he jerks back against the sensation of fire that suddenly explodes against his wound. He watches with dread at the missing limb, as his mother brings it closer-

He cries out, a strangled horrified yell as he tries to jerk away from his own body, but even his own mother has more strength to keep him still now- his mouth falling open as he sputters useless garble. He sees his mother holding his arm tightly against his shoulder and- and- and then black flames dance over his skin, weaving in and out, pulling and tightening, sewing itself back together-

His breathing goes faster, hyperventilating when he realizes _he's the one who's controlling it._

Within moments it's over, and Tristan looks dazedly at his arm, horrified but in wonder, and it looks perfectly fine. Tentatively he moves it, amazed as his fingers bend, and then he slowly looks up at his mother, his eyes huge, to find she is smiling through her tears. "You'll be alright," she says, brushing a hand through his hair as he quivers against her.

"Mo- Mom? How?" he whispers, his chest heaving, and Elizabeth swallows. But they are interrupted when Tristan is hauled to his feet by King, the Fairy King suddenly above them in a flash as he yanks him up by the collar, his clothing and chin covered in dirt and drying blood.

"Tristan!" The prince looks up and blinks at the sight of Diane, now back to her giant size as she runs over to them. "Tristan, are you alright?"

"I- I-" he stutters, his eyes darting around, "What is happening?"

"There's no time," King says. "Merlin won't be able to hold them for long." He nods to the right, and Tristan follows his gaze to where the mage is standing, perfectly still, concentrating with a deep frown. Aldan is floating above one palm, and the other is outstretched. Tristan continues his eyes to where the Ten Commandments are trapped inside a large purple-tinted cube, and his eyes bug out. Each one is trying to escape, their magic attacks battering against the sides; all but Zeldris, the one who had cut off his arm. Zeldris stares back at him, animosity clear on his face.

The tall blond one in the back is _laughing,_ his head thrown back cheerfully.

"How," one of the masks in the black blob says, "does one person," another masks growls, "have this much magic?"

Tristan looks at Merlin again, and can see the palm extended tremble slightly. "We need to go and find Lynette. We need to get out of here." The prince doesn't answer, so King gives him a shake. "Tristan! Are you listening?"

"Y-yes," he breathes, turning back to look at him. But there must have been something about his gaze, something off about his eyes, because King leans in.

"We are going to find Lynette," the Sin responds, slower this time as he holds Tristan by the shoulders. "You stay here and protect the queen."

Tristan nods and watches them take off at a run, following Ban, Gowther, and Escanor over the side of the hill. He hears Elizabeth say his name, feels her hand tentatively touch his shoulder, and that jolts him back to the present. For a moment he looks back at her, her blue eyes searching his black, a million different questions bubbling to the surface; but then he shrugs her off, stalking over to where his father is still imprisoned, picking up his sword on the way.

Meliodas catches sight of him as he approaches, but his face remains as hard as stone, and completely unreadable. When Tristan is only steps away from the barrier, he stops, and the two stare at one another for a long moment. Then with a slight tremor in his voice, Tristan asks, "Why did he call you brother?"

Meliodas shakes his head. "Tristan," he says, "there is a lot that I need to tell you." His voice is steady, and firm, and his son can hear the hint of a warning. "But this isn't the time-"

"Who _is_ that?!" Tristan shouts, a snarl twisting up his lips as a shadow covers the upper part of his face, and he points his sword out to where that Ten Commandments is held captive. Zeldris isn't paying any attention to them, instead looking _annoyed_ as he tries to cut through the cube, swinging his sword down in a wide arc. "What is going on? What have you done? What does he mean by _traitor_? What did he mean by _brother?_ He's a member of the Ten Commandments and he's calling us _family?!"_

"Tristan," Meliodas says, his hands balling into fists, and the warning is now clear in his voice. But the prince ignores it and continues, "This- this thing that is happening to me- you did this, somehow, you knew-!"

"I didn't." Meliodas cut him off, his voice calm and steady as he places his hands up on the side of the prison, and Tristan stares incredulously at the pleading look in his eyes. "You never showed any signs of taking after me. Not until that night in Vaizel."

"So why then?" yells Tristan, his voice cracking. "Why me? Why now?"

Meliodas sighs. "It's… I don't use it all the time either. Only when I have to. But you've never faced anything like this. You… we tried to give you a good home. A safe home." The king takes a deep breath. "You never had it before, because you never needed it. We had no idea."

"We?" Whirling around, he points his sword at where Elizabeth is watching them, her hands over her mouth. And she jerks, a small sound of shock leaving her as the sharp edge faces her way. "You knew about this?" He points up with has free hand, a snarl on his lip as he motions towards his mark, the moving black shape now twice as large above his brow as before, the edges sliding over his eye and down his cheek. "You knew that- that I would get this thing? What it is?! And you never told me?"

"You knew I was a demon." Meliodas voice is flat as Tristan glances behind him, "and there's more to that than having seven hearts." He looks so collected, and Tristan has had _enough!_

"You knew this would happen!" He is shaking now, everything crashing down on him as the horror and fear and confusion are focused solely on how enraged he is with his father. "Why did they kill him?" he shouts at Elizabeth. "How did he come back?"

She shakes her head, her hands on her cheeks, her eyes brimming with tears. And she looks frightened, of him. "I don't know," she chokes, and Tristan realizes she's right. She came from Vaizel right after this, didn't she? Elizabeth arrived in his mother's place just moments after this, and she was just as clueless as he.

Tristan grits his teeth and swings his weapon back towards father, taking a step forward, his sword raised higher. "Were you one of them? Is that how you came back?" He watches his father scowl, his hands squeezing against the wall of his prison, and it makes him even angrier. "Tell me the truth!"

"Lower your sword! THINK!" Meliodas suddenly shouts, but Tristan continues, the words falling from him in a jumble, "Is this what's wrong with Lynette? Is that why she did this?! I can feel it- I can feel this- this _power!"_ He can't stop it. The anger and his coursing blood that makes his hearts beat so damn fast and the damn _good idea that makes him want to wrap his hands around his father's throat!_

"IS THIS WHY LANCELOT IS DEAD?!"

He glares at his father, and Meliodas actually flinches backwards at the look of fury and disbelief on his face. "No," he says, holding up a palm, his voice low and steady. "I don't know why Lynette did this. _Think_ , Tristan. Did she have a mark on her forehead?"

Tristan blinks, shaking his head as he breathes heavily, air puffing out his mouth like a raging bull. But his fear fuels the anger and that fuels the confusion inside of him, and he turns away, looking out to where the rest of the Sins had gone after his sister. Is it possible it wasn't really _her_ that brought them to this place, that had cursed their mother, that had killed all those people… had killed Lancelot?

 _Damn it. Damn it damn it!_ How was he supposed to think through this?! He needed to _hurt_ something, he _had_ to.

Just the thought of Ban finding her, killing her- it shouldn't fill him will this much glee. He _shouldn't be this damn excited about his own sister dying._

He has to know for sure. He _needs_ to know.

Tristan sheathes his sword and starts for the edge, still breathing heavily and not looking at his mother, but it's Merlin's voice that stops him. "Tristan," she calls, and he pauses mid-step and looks over his shoulder. The Boar Sin is looking back at him, her arm still extended as she continues to hold the cube intact. "Think about what you've learned. Demons have choices, just like every other race. You have a choice. So does Lynette. Whatever she is now, it's not a demon. I'm sure of it."

But Tristan only shakes his head, bringing a hand up to cover his pulsing mark. "I have to know," he says thickly, and then he is off, Meliodas' voice following him as he hops over the edge. He slides down the rocky side of the hill, jumping the last few feet to the bottom, and then he heads into the maze in a full out sprint. It's grotesque, and huge, made up of rock and wood, and Tristan is reminded vividly of coming to Vaizel with Elizabeth, with _Lancelot_ , and how excited they had been to be out on their own adventure, despite the heavy circumstances of being there. Now it really is a different place, the crumbling walls still far taller than in his time, and he can remember the very real danger they had faced both times he has been here.

He remembers the trip through the wreckage, and as he races through the maze, he can make out the pieces of buildings and homes and even the parts of bodies that are melded into the walls. Just like before.

" _You know what I heard?" Lancelot says as they walk. "This place is completely haunted." he starts to make ominous wails under his breath, flouting his orb closer to create scary shadows across his face, and Tristan laughs-_

No! Not now! No, no he has to _focus_. He's bolting around corners, running as fast as he can, but those walls feel oppressive, as if they could cave in on him any moment. Tristan hurries up and down one path after another, searching for any large signs of life. But…

But he seems unable to escape the memories of Lancelot yelling at Arondight and hauling him up the side of the hill, of both of them laughing together when they escaped the sand crawlers. No matter how fast he runs.

Hot tears spring up into his eyes, which he swipes away furiously, remembering suddenly it was _Lancelot_ who had kept his cool that trip, who had gotten them out of there alive. Lancelot, the joker and the screw-up and the one with the million stories, who none of them ever believed in, had saved them from the sand crawlers, and knew what to do when his mother- when Princess Elizabeth- collapsed, and faced the thieves on his own; it was _Lancelot_ who begged him not to hurt them the first time the mark had flashed on his forehead and the flames had ripped from his body and down his sword. And it was Lancelot who realized first that there was something wrong with Lynette, pleading with him to trust him, to believe him. Who saved Jason.

Lancelot who was there the day he got back from training. Lancelot who laughed with him after the whole Tamise-thing. _Lancelot_ who stood up and took the blame right next to him while in trouble with the king. Lancelot who-

" _What about you?" snaps Lancelot, glaring over at him. "Turns out that Prince Perfect has a bit of a dark side, and what do you do? You just roll over. You don't even try to get the hell over it. Or, I don't know, ask for help?"_

"Lynette!" he screams, turning one corner after another, not caring how far or how deep he is heading into the maze. Lancelot had been there to stop him that time, and maybe… maybe if he finds her, he can stop it before it happens again… he can save her the way Lancelot had tried to save him in Vaizel… or he can kill her. Kill her like he _wants to._

 _Think, Tristan. Did she have a mark on her forehead? Was it there?_

He pushes his father's words out of his mind and continues on, calling her name over and over, until he hears a shout. There's a crash to his left, the sound of rocks falling and something smashing into another, and Tristan pauses for a moment to listen, taking off once again in the direction of the voices. He skids to a stop when he sees Lynette- his sister is right there- just a few yards away, and gives his own shout as he runs towards her.

But he hesitates as she screams and stumbles backwards, falling onto the ground as she tries to kick away and drags herself across the ground. Any pretenses she had before of being a skilled fighter is gone as she scrambles on the floor, trying to _crawl away_ pathetically. The hammer is gone, just her with her cracked armor and the blood and the dirt staining her clothing and hair. Her face twisted up in terror.

"No. No no no no," she's mumbling over and over as she crawls.

Gowther steps over her, his head tilted to the side, a streak of white light streaming from his outstretched hand before they connect to either side of her head- and her entire body convulses once before going still under his looming form.

"Gowther?" he pants, drawing up beside them. "What- what are you doing? What is happening?" He looks down at Lynette, who is on her hands and knees, a strangled sound coming out of her mouth as the veins in her neck puff out, her face going redder and redder with strain the longer Gowther has a hold of her head. "What are you doing to Lynette?" A snarl passes through his lips before he can stop it, and he shoots out a hand, trying to yank Gowther's arm away without success. "Let her go!"

"Hmmm," he says in answer, his blank look going down in a frown, before he tilts his head. "My theory was correct. This is Lynette, but something else resides within her as well. I can see… a woman. And a child."

"Is it Jason?" he asks quickly, his focus snapping back as he mentions a child, trying to understand as he leans over his sister. He reaches out a hand, but is hesitant to touch her. She's drenched in sweat now, her eyes staring at nothing with an intensity that it truly frightening.

"No," answers Gowther curiously. "It's not Lynette's memories I'm seeing."

"Not Lynette's?" he breathes. Could that be- could it be? He crouches down in front of her, trying to see her face. His throat is dry, making it difficult to swallow, and his voice comes out as a broken whisper. "Lynette?" Could it be, could _she_ be… ? "Lynette… is that, is that you?"

There's a moment of silence, everything still.

Lynette then gives a sudden scream, and both Tristan and Gowther are knocked backwards, going flying with a powerful force. Once again Tristan finds himself crashing to the ground, a loud grunt leaving his lips as he skids, and he slams his fist in anger. "Lynette!" he shouts, scrambling to get up as he looks over.

His sister is standing, her hair wild, her clothes torn and filthy, blood stuck to her skin.

"That was an unexpected reaction." Tristan swings his head around, seeing Gowther laying awkwardly over some rubble, a couple of pebbles bouncing off his head as he squints outwards. His glasses are missing, and he seems more concerned about them- then his sister who is now _hissing in a foreign language._

She raises her arms, the hammer once more in her hands, and with another cry she brings it down, slamming it with a piercing ring into the ground. Then the wind is rushing again, Tristan's senses overwhelmed, and he raises his own arms to cover his face as everything disappears.


	27. Nothing Left to Lose

A/N: We are days away from the American elections. My friends are discussing the intricate art of demon dick whispering. I have finally finished digging out my twenty foot deep bunker, and putting the last touches of my ability to scream really really, really loud. My three year supply of Ramen should keep me going for awhile. Godspeed my friends. Not that I think anything bad is going to happen, I just like being dramatic.

Lunabellla: Alright, hmmm, most likely.

BettyBest2: Father and son are butting heads, but at least they aren't meeting swords? He's having it really rough lately, and having Zeldris for an uncle, probably doesn't help. Gowther has been our favorite source of information for this entire story, we love him.

Peacerockgirl123: *joins in with piano* siiiiggghhh, we totally understand. This stuff is getting so deep.

MarianaBuBuLuBu: That's good news, because here you go!

PinappleTears: Thank you very much

CaptainTwiggy0918: I hope you can even soon, because we need you here. Yes, the Prince is just having a very very, very bad week. You are on _point_ with all your observations though, you are good at this!

Vhosek: Hopefully you have had time to process, because we are about to hit you with even more. We suggest not sitting on needles and pins, that sounds extremely uncomfortable.

Fanficlove2014: Oh my, we are perfectly alright with you getting slightly behind in the story! You're constant streams of not knowing what is going on is extremely enjoyable. Thank you love, for enjoying our work!

Chapter twenty seven: Nothing Left to Lose

* * *

Meliodas feels his body leave the ground, the wind rushing again in an abrupt and startling snap. The world seems to shatter around them, swirling like it had before in the courtyard. Then there is a flash of colors so bright and intense that Meliodas shouts in frustration, his eyes stinging as the constrictive magic around him _pulses_ before moments later everything stops, and his feet hit the ground hard as he lands in a crouch. He pauses a moment to get his bearings back before looking up, taking in the startling new surroundings.

 _Vaizel is gone._

The dark, rocky ground and the cubes full of pissed of Commandments is replaced by a richly decorated room, a large stone ceiling above him, the muted sunlight of late afternoon streaming through the stained glass windows to his left, taking the place of the moonshine. The sudden peace and silence is enough to make him stumble, unsure what to do next. He's in a castle, without a doubt, but it's then as he looks around that he sees Elizabeth on the ground, unmoving in a pile, and he immediately tries to run, shouting her name.

"Elizabeth!" The prison is still there as he bounces off it, banging into the wall that has kept him unable to go anywhere or do anything. It rattles his head as he stumbles back, and he quickly shakes it off as he throws a punch out. The sound of flesh meeting the barrier overtakes his shouting.

"Damn it!" he pounds his fist again. He is only a few feet away from her; she's right there! "Get a hold of yourself! Elizabeth, get up!" Frantically he looks around as he pushes with all his might, but still nothing happens. He shouldn't have let Tristan run off! He shouldn't have let the situation between him and his son get to this point. Tristan was the only one capable of protecting his mother, and he had run, because he wasn't able to face his own father.

He grinds his teeth, fingers digging into the wall as the tips were already worn down and bloody; he can't look away from Elizabeth. She is too still. _She can't be._ He's tempted to use Lostvayne, just to see what would happen as the barrier wobbles under his onslaught. The Ten Commandments are gone, so he is certain that they have jumped through time again. But where are they? When are they? And where are the others?

 _How were they moving through time?_

His fingers are just wrapping around his sword, the sharp sound of metal leaving the scaber, when he finally spies Merlin, staring off by the door. Looking intently at something right out of his view. "Merlin!" he shouts, and the mage turns around in surprise. "Get me the hell out of this thing!" he bangs his fist for good measures.

"Oh?" she smiles, "I knew I was forgetting _something."_ A bead of sweat trails down the side of her face, and it is clear from the slight weariness to her movements Merlin isn't as calm and collected as she would like. "Of course." She holds out two fingers; and a second goes by, and then another, as she concentrates deeply. " _Absolute Cancel,"_ she finally says, swiping her hand downwards; and immediately the prison walls crack, shattering in a spray of colors before disappearing completely.

Meliodas doesn't wait; the moment he can move he surges forward to where Elizabeth is lying, pulling her up into his arms. She's limp, her head flopping backwards as Meliodas places a hand on her chest, feeling for a heartbeat. There is a moment where he is sure he isn't going to find one, his jaw already shaking- when a steady thump sounds under his hand. He nearly cries out in happiness right then and there, when he feels her drag in a shuddering breath. "Elizabeth," he breathes in, his chest deflating in a giant gust of air, unable to say even another word, the relief palpable in his voice as he watches her come back to consciousness.

She's too pale and too tired as she pulls back to look at him, and they stare at each other for a moment. He searches her eyes for the dazed, far-away look; but her eyes focus on him, even with the darken shadows under them, even as her limbs move sluggishly. He squeezes her close, a hand behind her head as she blinks off the effect- and knowing she is still there, alive and with him, he knows they will make it out of here. "Meliodas," she murmurs, her hand coming up to tentatively touch the lapel of his shirt, feeling the fabric under fingers. "Meliodas...Are we? Is this…?"

He grips her firmly as he pulls her up to stand, careful and not letting her go as she shakily gets on her feet. Concern washes over his face as she slowly closes and opens her eyes, as if she is trying to focus on him. "Stay with me," he says firmly, giving her a squeeze as he notices her legs can barely hold her weight.

"Captain," Merlin's voice says in the quiet, and he turns to look over to her. "You need to come and look at this."

Without letting go of Elizabeth, he takes a few steps forward to stand next to the Boar Sin, Elizabeth leaning the majority of her weight into his arms, and Meliodas reluctantly follows her gaze into the room, already guessing that whatever was in there, he isn't going to like.

A flash of fear goes down his spine.

 _Damn it._

Pinned to the wall with swords and spears piercing all over his body is the Great Holy Knight, Zaratras. Blood splattered everywhere, chucks and gouges missing in the walls and floors and ceiling; where it seems a fierce battle had taken place.

Dread sinks in Meliodas' stomach like a stone. Now he knows exactly where they are, and when. The memory of this moment is just as clear and piercing as it was decades ago. Zaratras had been the first person he met in Lioness, and aside from the other Sins, the only person he ever really trusted completely. Being around for thousands of years had allowed him to truly see what a person was made of, and Zaratras had been nothing but good.

He looks around, anxiously starting at the large double doors leading into the room. He can't help but wonder where the hell _he_ is; the Meliodas of this time. Or even the others. Shouldn't _he_ be here? And he hadn't seen the other counterparts in Vaizel either. His eyes reluctantly goes back to the wall, a sharp shiver flashing down his spine.

Zaratras… They had shared an unusual and unexpected friendship, and even though he could dispatch him easily, Meliodas was happy to serve under this Great Holy Knight. Finding his body like this decades ago had been a complete shock; what it meant for Lioness and for the royal family was overshadowed only by his own real feelings of loss. Zaratras had been a friend, and somewhat of a confidante, as much as Meliodas had allowed someone to be at least. He had been even honored that the Holy Knight trusted him enough to help train his son, Gilthunder. But now, seeing his body again pierced with the swords- the shock and raw emotions of that day come back. He swallows thickly in an attempt to shake himself from it.

 _This happened already,_ Meliodas reminds himself. He know what's going to happen, and quickly he tries to figure out what to do next. Then- _now_ \- the Seven Deadly Sins had to scatter, not to see one another again for ten years; obviously that couldn't happen now. They couldn't wait that long in the past to find Lynette. And obviously there can't be _two_ sets of Sins running around in the same time period.

All of this happened over forty years ago, but this is the _moment_ that set everything into motion. Without this betrayal, without this murder of his friend, they would not have been exiled; Hendrickson and Dreyfus would not have come to power, the Holy Knights would not have tried to seize Lioness, and Elizabeth would never have crashed into the Boar Hat wearing a suit of armor.

Absolutely everything that he had _now,_ came from this moment _then_ ; the irony of returning to this moment when he is on the verge of losing it all is not lost on him.

 _Lynette was not holding her punches._

"You said we can't change anything. So if we mess up this time, how damned are we Merlin?" he asks, absolutely serious, and Merlin's eyes narrow, turning away from the bloody sight. "I would speculate, that if we mess up, it could completely erase _us_ as we are," she says simply. "There is too much riding on these events."

"Damn."

"Precisely, captain."

He glances over at Elizabeth, and Meliodas wonders where they would have been now if Zaratras had not been murdered and he had been allowed to watch her grow up, as he had planned. But he shakes his head to push the idea away. That's a worry for another time, and he has his wife to deal with and to protect _now_. He tries to move to block Elizabeth from seeing, but it is too late. Her face is frozen in horror as she stumbles backwards with a pained gasp, and only his grip keeps her from falling. "Elizabeth," he hisses, holding her steady once again, but her eyes are wide and staring over his shoulder. "What- who is that?" she cries.

"It's Zaratras," Meliodas explains, stepping in the way and pulling her to the side. He turns so that she is no longer facing the body hanging from the wall, and swallows nervously as he rubs her arms up and down. "Elizabeth. Don't look at that… yeah," he finishes lamely, unsure what to do as he quickly looks over at Merlin, who is tapping her elbow in deep thought.

Elizabeth squeezes her eyes shut, nodding as she takes one deep breath after another. After a moment she looks at him again, and with a tremble in her voice asks, "Where are the others? Where is Tristan?" she freezes, a look of pure dread paling her skin further. "J-Jason? Jason was with them."

"I don't know," he says gravely. "We need to find them." He turns and looks over his shoulder and sees Merlin walking with long strides over to look out of the window. "And I'm going to guess we don't have much time, as there are probably a few hundred Holy Knights outside waiting to arrest us."

"You would be correct in that guess," Merlin says without humor. She looks back at them with a grave expression. "I suggest we go, now."

Meliodas nods and follows, before he stops abruptly.

"Merlin," he says blandly, "do not knock me out and take my power."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Right." He huffs, pulling Elizabeth with him, but before they can leave the room suddenly she seems to come back to herself, "Wait!" she protests, trying to pull from his grip. "But- but we can't just- just leave him!" she cries, her pleading glance making him want to cringe. Frantically she turns back to the knight. "We need to help- maybe I can-"

"No," says the king harshly. "Elizabeth! Listen to me. He's dead, there's nothing to be done." He takes a deep breath to steady himself, the vision of this moment becoming difficult to handle himself. He can't snap at her, but they just don't have time. "There are knights coming to exterminate us, so we have to go. We have to find the others and get out of here."

Her mouth falls open, "This is... This is _then?"_ her voice cracks, finally understanding when they are in now, and he can see her struggle for calm. "Trust me," he insists, and with a final glance over her shoulder, Elizabeth gulps, and nods.

Now they move quickly together out of the room, down the hallway and towards the stairs of the tower. There is shouting somewhere, and Meliodas squeezes her hand to keep himself steady, knowing that she is still there with him. He can't lose her in all of this mess. They hurry down the stairs, their footsteps echoing against the stone and Meliodas can only think about finding Tristan and the others, and finding Lynette. And, damn it, if _Jason was here. If his boy was here_ he will get them back where they belong. He will save his children. He will stop whoever is behind this.

Two flights down, they find King, Diane and Escanor. "Captain!" she shouts, her shoulders hunched over to fit her body into the cramped space. She looks increasingly uncomfortable, a large bump on the top of her head where she keeps cracking it against the ceiling, and King floats above, his Sacred Spear ready above his shoulder, while Escanor is now the size of a normal man, his clothing hanging just a bit loosely around him.

"Where are the others?" he asks, but King just shakes his head. "We don't know. Where are we? Do you know?"

"Oh, you're gonna like this," Meliodas nods. "This is the tower of the Great Holy Knight. It's the day of the Founder's Festival, when we found… when we found Zaratras."

Diane's hand covers her mouth in shock, but King lowers his chin, his hands clenching as Escanor says softly, "She's going to just keep moving us through time, isn't she? Until we're lost somewhere?"

"Not if we can stop her," Merlin answers.

"We use only the force we need to." Meliodas feels Elizabeth stiffen next to him as he says, "I'll take care of Lynette. I don't want anyone hurting her."

Suddenly, King is just there, moving between the space in less then a second, and Elizabeth squeaks in surprise as he blocks their path.

King is only inches from the king of Lioness, a hair breadth away as he stares Meliodas down with hatred so dark the princess can't seem to breathe from the intensity. "You don't want anyone hurting _her?_ The person who killed another royal member of a so-called _ally kingdom?_ " King's voice is like blades, and he is cut off by his own rage, his entire body shaking. His voice quivers when he finally continues, "Lynette killed the future Fifth King of the Fairy Forest! She killed _Lancelot! You- you and Ban raised him like your own son!_ She killed my _nephew,_ and what? You want me to just turn a blind eye?" Finally he sneers, "She killed all your own Holy Knights, in cold blood!"

"I know that," answers Meliodas, his voice dark with a threat as he meets the Fairy King's eyes. "And I don't want her harmed."

King looks as if he is about to explode. "You want me to- to turn a blind eye to this murderer because I _work for you!?_ This is bigger than just _you!"_ he snarls, looking ready to swing at Meliodas, who meets his eyes without backing down, but Diane reaches out and sweeps him up in her hand, holding him close to her chest even as the Fairy King squirm desperately. "Stop it!" she pleads, her own watery eyes pleading down towards King, and the fairy freezes under the teary purple gaze. "We can't fight each other!"

"D-Diane! B-but I," Harlequin tries to say.

There is sudden shouting from below, and Merlin holds up Aldan, her fingers rolling it on her palm. "The Holy Knights are about to enter," she says smoothly. "We need to decide what to do."

"Captain?" Escanor asks nervously, fiddling with his glasses. "Do we stay and fight, or try to run?"

Meliodas stares at King. He's angry; angry that he would threaten Lynette like that, angry at everything he just said. Angry that he can't deny them. But he knows that Merlin is right. "We need to go, _now_ ," he says. His memories of this time are unclear, but he knows that at any moment, the Holy Knights will storm the tower. If that happens, all of them will die. There is a flash in his memory of a girl, laying on the floor and covered in blood, and he shakes it away, his pulse beginning to beat faster. Merlin's warning in Vaizel echoes in his mind: _If we change anything too drastically, we won't be able to get back to where we belong._ Again he is torn, wanting to stop the destruction to come, but knowing that their future depends on letting it happen.

A moment later there is a crash, as something breaks through the floor. A rush of wind and dirt and rocks fly through the air towards them, a choking cloud of dust flying everywhere and Meliodas jumps, sweeping Elizabeth up into his arms as she screams in surprise. They land on the flight of stairs they had just come down from, the others moving out of the way as well, and he peers down as he clutches Elizabeth against him to see what has happened. Have the Holy Knights begun their attack already? He grips her tightly, deciding he will do anything to make sure he gets Elizabeth out of there safely, no matter what the consequences are, and he reaches back for his sword.

His mouth drops open when the plume of dust clears and he sees that it is Ban, clutching against the wall as his legs snap back into place, a splat of dark blood where he had slammed into the wall behind him, shouting in fury. "Get out of my way!" he roars vehemently, not even seeming to notice any of them in his haze of rage.

"Ban!" Meliodas calls, setting Elizabeth down next to him. "You can't hurt any of these knights! We can't change any-"

He is cut off as Ban leaps back down, through the hole in the floor below he had come out of with a yell, cursing loudly as the stone continues to crumble away. And finally, Meliodas sees that it is not the crowd of Holy Knights that Ban is fighting; it is Tristan.

"Stop!" he shouts, jumping over the side of the steps. He ignores Elizabeth's protest behind him as he falls down through the opening. Landing easily, he takes in Gowther standing over Lynette by another crumbled staircase, his powers now a white light that extends from one palm. She looks terrible, covered in cuts and bruises and blood, her hair once again blonde but filthy with dirt, her clothes torn, parts of her armor missing. Her face is covered in sweat as Gowther looms over her- his other hand holding the warhammer that his daughter had been using, and Meliodas' stomach turns at the power that seeps from it. "Interesting," Gowther says to no one in particular. "This hammer doesn't seem to want me to touch it."

"Back off!" shouts Tristan, standing in front of where Lynette is in a heap on the ground. Meliodas can see the demon mark flaring across his son's brow, explaining how he was able to send Ban through a wall as he stands there in a way that screams he is barely holding onto his humanity. His blade is burning black as he yells again, "She didn't do this! You can't kill her!"

"Oh, ya gonna get in the way kid? I'll kill you too if I have to," Ban bites out, extending his arm as his staff snaps out to the side. "Or is that your way of saying you're guilty? Did _you_ kill him?" he snarls lowly, and he swings his arm forward, the weapon surging towards the prince in a flash, and Meliodas moves, drawing his own weapon and blocking the blow with one of his own.

"Stop," Meliodas says over the gust of wind and magic that swirls around them, as Ban and his weapon meet, the warning in his voice clear. He stands between his friend and his son. But Ban does not listen, jumping off of the ground in a great leap towards them, and towards Lynette.

"Meliodas!" Elizabeth is hanging over the side of the opening above them, on her hands and knees as she frantically peers down.

"Leave her alone!" Tristan yells, as he again starts forward, making the move to dash by his father side and cut upwards with his sword, in an attempt to run Ban through. With a flash of movement the king knocks Ban back with an elbow to his stomach, Ban's entire body caving in at the force, as Meliodas pushes Tristan out of the way. "We need to get out of here," he insists.

Ban lands easily, spitting out some blood and points an accusing finger at Meliodas. "She killed Lancelot," he says, his voice low, his anger edged with pain.

"No!" Tristan shouts as he wobbles to his feet, "You think I'd be protecting her if she did?!" Tristan's scream is overshadowed by the malice seeping off Ban, and the hairs on the back of Meliodas' neck stand on end as he nods. "I know," Meliodas says to Ban, his voice firm. "And we will deal with that, I swear it. Ban."

"It wasn't her!" Tristan yells again. "Will someone listen to me!" He uses his sword as leverage to keep standing from where Meliodas had thrown him, and he leans forward with his hands on his thighs as he catches his breath. "You have to listen! I thought so too, I _saw it_ but- Damn it all tell them Gowther! There's something- something inside her!"

"You're lying!" There is a crackle in the air as magic surges forward, and Lynette's body lifts off the floor and flies through the air towards Ban's outstretched hand. Tristan shouts and runs forward with his sword, Elizabeth shouting something above them- but Meliodas is faster than them both. With one movement he pushes Tristan back again with a little too much force, sending his son crashing into the wall, just as he reaches out with his other hand to grab Lynette by the arm. He pulls the girl back against him, yanking her limp form behind his back and slings her over his shoulder.

"I told you to stop!" Meliodas yells, now holding Lynette as he glares at Ban, ready to take an actual swing at the next person who decides to try that again. "That's an order!"

"Ow," Tristan grunts, sitting up from a pile of rubble, his arms shaking terrible as he tries to push up to his feet.

The room is suddenly silent, and neither one moves as the two stare at each other in a stand-off. Out of the corner of his vision he sees the others drop down to their floor. Merlin looks calm, floating with her arms crossed, but he can see Aldan out- ready to separate the two of them. They all know Ban has no choice but to follow the command, and the rest are still, waiting to see if they need to step in to stop the fight. Meliodas' eyes flicker down to where Ban's hand clenches and unclenches around his weapon, quivering, and he can tell the struggle Ban is having not to lash out. "Captain," Ban growls, "don't make me-"

"We don't have time for this," Meliodas says gravely, cutting him off. "Zaratras is dead upstairs. The Holy Knights are going to be here any minute, and-"

"None of that matters," King says, floating closer. "She needs to be taken care of." His hand is out at the side, Chastiefol there and ready for his command.

There is a moment of tense silence. No one moving, no one _wanting_ to move first.

"Stay out of this," Ban finally growls.

The Grizzly Sin snaps his head around to gape at him. "What?! But Lancelot-"

"He is _my_ son," Ban says, with finality, as he continues his stare off. "Not yours." He lifts his arm to point his staff at his best friend. "She took my kid, capt'n."

He hurls himself forward, and as Meliodas steps in front to stop his advance, Ban swings. The Dragon Sin curses as he moves to drop Lynette on the ground and block the first round of kicks and punches that Ban aims his way, the room trembling as Ban throws him through five walls- before Meliodas returns the favor, slapping him the opposite way through the rest. When Ban gets up with a snarl, Meliodas finally delivers his own powerful strike to knock him back and off his feet. Slamming his foot into throat, Meliodas keeps him on the floor; even as Ban gurgles and spits at him. "I told you to knock it off! Stand down!" he yells at Ban. "I know! I know, Ban, just _not now!"_

" _Captain_ -" Merlin's voice calls out in a warning, but Meliodas puts up a hand towards the others. "Stay back," he says with a deep breath, his eyes never leaving Ban. "I can handle him."

King shouts in frustration and starts forward, but Escanor steps in front of him. "Captain said to stand down," he says, and the fairy shouts, "I don't care what he said!"

"King!" Diane cries in shock as King forms his spear into thousands of blades around them, one swipe of a hand away from impaling the princess, when Meliodas finally yells, "Enough, all of you!" His eyes stay on Ban, the Fox Sin still looking positively murderous, as he turns his chin to say over his shoulder, "Gowther, can you figure out how to get us back?" He ignores the shouting match between the fairy and giant, as the Goat Sin pulls his brows down in thought. "It is difficult to cut through so much magic. There are two sets of thoughts to decipher."

"What?" Meliodas says in disbelief, and he looks at Lynette, who is still silent and limp laying a few feet away. He finally moves off of Ban, knowing he'll need a second to regenerate his crushed throat- and on instinct he grabs her up and pushes his daughter's head to the side, pulling her hair back…

His vision narrow as he sees that on the back of her neck, is the mark, the symbol they had found in Elizabeth's diary.

A golden outline of a hammerhead.

"Oh no," he breathes, and when he looks up Merlin is moving in between them, stopping short when she sees the mark. "She's cursed. Gowther," she says, turning to the Goat Sin, "what did you see?"

Gowther pushes his glasses up his nose before his hand skims along the handle of the hammer. "This belongs to someone very powerful," he answers cryptically. "The energy I am detecting from it is similar to the one admitting from the princess and prince."

"I tried to- to tell you," Tristan is limping closer, as his father looks up grimly, "she wouldn't do this. Whoever that is _isn't_ Lynette- Lancelot tried to tell us, before-." He flinches, unable to finishes, as Ban hacks a cough, sitting up as he swipes blood off his chin, and Meliodas looks over at him-

Suddenly the floor beneath them gives way, and several things happen in a blur of movement at once. Voices call from below, accompanied by a commanding shout, "The Seven Deadly Sins are inside! They have murdered the Great Holy Knight! Avenge the Grand Master!" There is a roar as the knights storm the tower, magic attacks bursting through the stone as Meliodas drops to the ground floor, one hand grasped around either of his children.

It is difficult to tell though the dirt and the smoke and the noise what is happening for a moment, and then Meliodas finds that they have been knocked outside. A bout of dizziness overcomes him as he climbs up to his hands and knees. _Tristan,_ Meliodas looks over at him, watching as his son struggles to his feet. He seems to be barely hanging on, and Meliodas knows this isn't good. They have to go, get back to where they belong, and _fast_. But when he looks up, there are at least a dozen knights advancing, calling their own attacks, and with one step Meliodas is up and drawing his sword.

He doesn't hesitate to send the men flying in different directions. "Take your sister and find a place to hide!" he yells, spotting Knights coming from all directions, trying to overwhelm them with sheer numbers.

"This situation is a highly unusual one!" Escanors voice booms out. He is large now, his eyes peering down at the crowd through his small glasses, and he chuckles. "Splendid!" Meliodas sweeps his blade to the side, calling out, " _Full Counter_ ," and the knights are knocked back, allowing him a minute to look around and assess. King, Escanor, and Merlin are easily pushing back the advancing line of Holy Knights, Tristan was dragging Lynette away to the side, and King and Diane are up front; and Meliodas is pleased to see they are handling them without any casualties. His eyes sweep around the field, looking for-

 _Shit. Where is Ban?_

"Take it easy over there!" King yells out, flicking his wrist and sending back a wave of bodies, "Facing these guys after the Ten Commandments?" King makes a face, "Ugh, I feel _abusive."_ He looks over at Escanor who booms another laugh. He has a Knight in either hand, shaking them like rattles, and Diane is nervously pelting people with large rocks, clearly uncomfortable as she yelps and jumps out of the way of another attack, while sending her own with continuous yells of "sorry!"; and it's when Meliodas kicks a roaring man in the face, that he suddenly realizes that he has lost Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth!" he screams, up and running back towards the tower. Stupid stupid stupid, he's a goddamn _idiot!_ He jumps over a knight who advances with a dramatic swinging sword, and the feeling of deja vu hits him hard as a roar of, "Kill the Traitors!" echoes throughout the open area. He suddenly remembers as he runs a child in the chaos while they were escaping, a little girl who is hurt. The memory hits him powerfully. He can see every detail, suddenly crystal clear, clearer than this moment had ever been. The girl is on the ground, and his demon power is flaring suddenly and unexpectedly... Merlin standing over him…

He looks up.

The tower has a huge chunk missing from the side, looking as though it might collapse if it takes any more damage, and _now_ he is rushing forward to save the girl he saw, the one who had appeared out of nowhere from the shadows of the stairs…

 _No_ , he thinks. _Elizabeth, find Elizabeth_ , but he can't help his eyes darting around, trying to find the child he knows is somewhere nearby. _You can't save her, you can't change anything_ , he thinks. Looking up he can see another piece of the tower fall away as a burst of magic hits the side, and he knows that it will come down, any minute now, and he has no time to save the child or Elizabeth or any of them.

And then another face is suddenly there, overtaking his vision. The smiling, carefree laugh, the look of pure adoration and absolute trust, with a missing tooth that is just the same age as the little girl.

Jason.

A surge of energy ignites under his skin, causing him to stumble mid-step. _No, no, no,_ he thinks, pushing it back inside. He hadn't lost control since- no no no! Don't think! Keep control! Fuck! He snarls, but the vision of Elizabeth bleeding inside the tower pushes him forward, mixing until there are two small children bleeding out under the explosions- dying in his hands. The increased, heart wrenching need to _find Jason where is Jason it could be Jason under all the rocks AGAIN Jason Jason Jason,_ is now screaming. He needs Elizabeth. He needs his son. His pulse is up, his breathing, he can't control it as he takes in deep breaths but he can't seem to breathe. He will stop it this time, and if that means using the demon magic he possesses, then-

"Captain!" Diane steps in front of him, blocking his path, and he looks up at her frantically and shouts, "Not now Diane, I need to find Elizabeth! This isn't the-!" he's already moving, trying to get around her, but she slams her hammer into the ground, inches from him.

"Meliodas!" Diane snaps, crouches on the ground, bringing her hand down to him, and he sees that Elizabeth is safely tucked inside the giantess' palm; scared, covered in dust and powdered stone, but unhurt. She hops down to the ground shakily and sprints towards him, throwing her arms around him and hugging him fiercely as he does the same, pulling her snugly against him. He presses his face into her shoulder as his fingers dig into her hair and back.

She grips his shoulders, her cheek pressed to his, and he feels her energy surging forward as she says, "Are you alright? Is Tristan?"

Diane's voice snaps him out of his dark thoughts. "Ban!" she cries, pointing behind them, and in frustration Meliodas turns.

Several yards away, he sees Tristan send a bolt of energy out from his sword, which crashes into the Fox Sin, driving him into the ground and all but ripping a hole through his arm. The black swirl is back, nearly pulsing on his forehead as the prince barely has the power to stand, and Meliodas feels his own demon side retreat back inside him as he is filled with horror at his children driven into a corner. "No! Tristan!" Elizabeth shouts, taking off in a sprint to where Ban is now up again and stalking towards the prince, without mercy.

Meliodas runs after her, passing her easily, but he's a moment too late, as Ban delivers a kick to Tristan's chest; so hard he's coughing up blood, sending him sailing out of the way and crashing towards other fallen Knights. Then Ban is crouching on the ground, grabbing up the bleeding form of Lynette. "I'll kill you for what you've done." He isn't yelling, instead hissing so darkly that he looks far more terrifying than any demon as Lynette screams out, falling back in fear.

"What?" she cries, her voice shrill as she tries to fight him off. She kicks, trying to push herself away from him in a flurry of jerky arms and legs. "Please don't! Uncle Ban-!"

"Don't call me that!" Ban yells, his hands going around her neck. A wobbled choking sound comes from her as she scratches at his arms. "You brought us here! Why?! Tell me when you fuck you thought killing him was a good idea, you bitch!" he snarls, "And you think I'm just gonna-!"

Meliodas delivers a kick to the side of Ban's head so hard his head cracks, sending him hurtling away in a spin of tissue and blood. Then he drops to his knees and pulls Lynette up by the arms. She wraps around him, curling her entire body close as she shakes. "Lynette," he breathes, knowing immediately, this is his daughter. His real daughter.

She coughs, drawing in painful breaths as she looks up at him. "Dad?" she whispers. In relief he pulls her into a tighter hug and rests his chin against her hair. "Where- where are we?" she asks, her teeth chattering so hard it obstructs her ability to talk.

Meliodas pulls back to study her face, wiping her hair back from her brow drenched in sweat and blood. Her eyes are wide, and his stomach drops when he sees how unfocused they are, how glassy and dazed. darting back and forth, just as Elizabeth's had been in Camelot. "Lynette, look at me," he bites out painfully, repeating what he had tried with her mother.

"Dad?" she whimpers pathetically. "He said- he said-" Lynette chokes on a sob. "He said I killed Lancelot. Lancelot! And Tristan and Gowther? But I- I didn't. I am a Holy Knight! I wouldn't!" Her eyes flicker around, her hands moving around erratically, clawing at his shoulder. "I'm not even home! I'm with Slader you see, you see!" She looks up at him with hope, and Meliodas flinches back, "I couldn't have hurt him! See! I'm not even home! Didn't I- I wouldn't hurt him. Did I? No! This is a dream. I'm _dreaming._ It's a dream!" She is screeching now, her voice going up shrilly as she jerks her body to the side, trying to twist away from his hold.

Then Elizabeth is there, falling to her knees beside him, her hands reaching out to take Lynette's as she says her name softly. She's already trying to heal her, but the girl only continues her sobbing, over and over, "It's a dream. It's a dream. See, I know it is!"

He hears Elizabeth's sharp intake of breath as she gasps. "It's not a dream," he says steadily, reaching out to hold her head. "Please, Lynette, I need you to-"

"No!" she snaps, sounding close to a petulant child, so very unlike herself. "It is! It is!" She sobs so hard his chest heaves, her trembling hands grabbing onto his shirt to yank at it desperately.

Then she blinks twice, and then her eyes dart back to his face, meeting his. "Daddy?" Her voice is now calm, and grave, her gaze focused for the first time. "Who am I?"

"Lynette," he answers slowly. "You are my daughter."

She breathes in once, twice, deep cleansing breaths. Then her hands twist sharply into his shirt and she whispers, "You have to stop her. You have to kill me."

Meliodas rears back.

"What?" he chokes.

"Kill me." she states it clearly, again, without hesitation on her face. But when his fingers tighten on her arms, and she sees she's not getting the reaction she wants she screams, "You have to kill me! Kill me kill me kill me!"

"Knock it off," Meliodas gives her a shake. "Stop! I won't- that isn't-"

"NO!" She screeches so loud it overcomes the fighting around them, before she starts to cry in earnest, "Ban! Tristan! _Someone_ , please! She… she won't stop. She wants Jason. She's killing everyone because she can! Not because of some sort of reason! Or orders! Or-or- She's killing people," she sobbing now, over and over, "She's killing people… _mom…_ She wants _Jason…_ his power… Ban can..." Lynette looks down at her hands, flexing them slowly. "She's coming back. She's coming back."

"Lynette," he says harshly. Meliodas looks up at Elizabeth, not knowing what to do, but she is just staring at Lynette, her hand clamped over her mouth as tears wobble and threaten to spill from her eyes.

Suddenly Lynette yanks herself backwards and out of his grip, and when she looks up at him, Meliodas ready to chastise her again; but the darkness surrounding her is back. Black sludge rolls over her face and down her arms as Elizabeth shouts in shock, Meliodas leaping back as Lynette's hand shoots out, the warhammer appearing a moment later.

Lynette smiles at them, still crouched on the ground, and Meliodas swallows as he watches the weapon twirl in her hand. "How do I stop her?" he wonders out loud, and feels Elizabeth grip his arm tightly.

"You can't," Lynette answers. It's her voice, but different somehow, and now that he knows there is something inside of her and driving her to act it all makes much more sense.

"Who are you?" Meliodas says. "What do you want?"

She tilts her head to the side, her eyes rolling towards the side unnaturally. "Mommy, daddy, don't you recognize your daughter? I'm all grown up now."

"You're _not_ Lynette," he answers. "Get the hell out of her." His voice is so dark, he is surprised he hasn't lost it.

"Mmmm," Lynette chuckles, planting the hammer on the ground and leaning forward on the handle. She opens her mouth to say something, when the hammer suddenly shoots out from under her, causing her to stumble forward. She rights herself and looks up in surprise, black sludge even inside her mouth; that she spits and snarls as Ban steps around them, twirling the hammer leisurely. "You heard the Captain," he says darkly, staring her down. "Get the fuck out of that girl so I can kill you for real."

"Give me that back!" Lynette screams, actually stomping a foot. And she holds out her hands, the tug of war between her and Ban making her hiss. "Don't you want to kill _me! Uncle I love you!_ Make up your mind!"

"Fuck you," Ban shrugs, before he raises a brow as holds the hammer up, ignoring her attempts completely. "What, this?" Ban looks at it in the light, as if studying it closely. "What so special about this anyway?"

"You have _no_ idea-"

"Shut up," he mutters, and with his muscles straining, snaps the hammer in half.

Lynette screams as though she is in horrible pain, the sound unnatural, going on and on and on. Elizabeth covers her ears with her own cry, causing the hairs on Meliodas' arms to stand up. King yelps as he almost falls out of the sky, and even Merlin cringes as all the Knights stop their advances, unsure what to do under the terrible sound. Meliodas takes a step forward out of instinct, willing to do anything to stop the obvious pain his daughter is in; but then the wind moves again, swirling and sweeping around them, and he reaches out and pulls his wife tightly against him so he does not lose her as they are sent through time again.

When the world rights itself, he blinks in the bright light. Elizabeth is holding onto him tightly, her face pressed against his shoulder, and he squeezes her reassuringly. With dread he looks up to see where she has brought them now and what state Lynette is in, but to his surprise they are in the courtyard in Lioness Castle. They are back home, he's sure of it. They are surrounded by Holy Knights carrying bodies, soldiers and servants hurrying around their group to tend to those who had been hurt or killed in the fight between Tristan and Lynette. The castle is still damaged and the gate is rubble.

This was _their time._

"Holy shit." Meliodas whirls around as he hears that curse, to see where the others are. The Sins are where they had been when they left, Ban looking especially dazed, his skin and hair singed from the magic that had escaped when he broke the hammer. Tristan is also climbing to his feet nearby, looking battered and absolutely exhausted, and to his relief the demon mark is fading quickly from his brow, replaced by pale skin and red-rimmed eyes. They exchange a glance, father and son finally on the same page, before they both turn to see where Lynette is.

Elizabeth gasps against him, and he is quick to tighten his hold around her hip so she doesn't bolt off, as he looks. Lynette is on the ground, unmoving on her stomach, and the darkness that had covered her is gone. She could be dead, he can't be sure, his heart seizing in that moment. However, only a few inches away from her still body, lay a woman next to her. She is on her hands and knees, hissing and spitting and clawing at the ground, covered in long coils of shadows that seeps from her tattered and ripped gown. The woman's dress flows around her, dirty and old and faded. Her hair is clumped and matted, her skin nearly gray; and the bony-faced, snarling old woman is pinned to the ground through her stomach by a crackling Arondight.


	28. The More Things Change

**A/N:** I feel as though I've been swimming in a pool of endless thoughts lately. Where am I going, where did I come from, why is ramen cup noodles only 87 cents per bag, but 99 cents per cup? How do credit cards work? Lickitysplit has been using bright colors, shiny keys and loud jiggly things to catch my attention long enough to get a few paragraphs in before I start pondering again. So, here we go folks. This is a chapter dedicated to all her hard work.

BettyBest2: he was! We are shocked too, we were thinking of keeping him in there, but we knew you would have found where we lived and set us on fire, so Meliodas is out of his cage! Yay! Thank you love for like our chapter. Yes, Ban and Meliodas are the closes bro's I've ever seen in my life- but if anything can strain a relationship to the breaking point, we assumed it would be their families killing each other.

MarianaBuBuLuBu: Oh yes! We are trying, but I'm flooooating away. The truth is coming? Eh, why does that sound like a question? _**Lickity shakes some shiny keys by my head**_ Right! Yes! Thank you for reviewing!

peacerockgirl123: we love how much love you love about the love we were able to make lovingly happen too. We just love love, love. Thank you, we take lessons twice a week.

Vhosek: Yes, everything is coming to a close love, so we are so happy you like our over-the-top drama. Before every writing session we like to sit down and look at Nakaba's work, and then try to be at least 1/10th as dramatic as the real SDS. We love that you love it, love!

RainStorm2122: Freaking B. Yes love. We are so far gone in this story, we are sure we're gonna need to go to a rehab center when we're all through and finished. We'll see you there.

Kayla. panek: Oh my dear gods love, your review. I read it first thing after waking up, and you made our day. It was great, and we LOVED the critique, thank you. It was very choppy, and we we love that you pointed that out. You are so amazingly nice, it's awesome. And for your questions; Ban _really_ has a nasty habit of taking first and asking never, doesn't he? If Merlin _could_ get any answers- breaking it probably made her foam at the mouth a little. Destroying an unknown magical item? How dare he.

Chapter twenty eight: The More Things Change

* * *

Jason runs as fast as he can through the training yard, smoke rising into the air, rock and stone fly around the courtyard, but he ignores the shouts and crashing around him. He's crying, his eyes burning; but then suddenly someone is reaching for his arm, the ground shaking in a scary way as fingers wrap around his elbow.

But it could be the Boogeyman, and he is so scared that it is he yanks himself away. "No!" He stumbles a bit before running faster away from everyone, going in the opposite direction of the crowd. He can barely see through his tears, sobbing and tripping and falling as he dashes past the broken gates. He doesn't stop, even as people in full metal armor sprint towards where he came from, not as crowds of people enter the streets so early in the morning to see what the loud commotion is about, not for anything.

Lancelot just got hurt. Lancelot was bleeding. Lancelot is-

He squeezes his eyes closed as he runs faster. No one stops the prince, most not even noticing as the young child runs past. Lancelot _was all bloody_ \- he could still see it in his mind!- and Lancelot's body was on the floor… the image of it burns behind his eyes… more tears spring up. He can't breathe now, the world squeezing around him tightly, and that scares him too. The sun glares into his eyes and blinds him as his hands claw the front of his chest, and he gasps with every step, bolting down the barely used paths and around sharp corners. He runs as fast as he can down the Lioness streets, until he is inside the nearby east castle, his feet tapping against the stone.

He pays no attention to the direction he goes, the only sound in the empty corridors his heavy breathing, he just wants to get away from the frightening things behind him.

His sister had never been so mean, so scary; he still feels her fingers digging into him sharply as she practically dragged him away, even though he wasn't allowed. She knew they weren't allowed to run off! Why would she try to get them in trouble? It had been such a relief to see Tristan and Lancelot arrive, and even though he still didn't totally understand why they had to fight- something about Lynette lying? Lynette never tells lies!- their raised voices were enough to make him afraid. They had promised they would never fight when he was there, _they promised!_

Jason suddenly stops when he realizes he's alone. Somewhere. His head turns this way or that, as he huffs in deeply, trying to catch his breath.

Not a single adult has stopped him or asked him what he was doing or where he was going, and he is suddenly completely unsure of what to do. The young prince sniffles loudly, bringing an arm up to rub his tears and snot away. There was always someone around, but not now, and… Looking side to side, he decides to head to one of spots Lancelot had showed him, one of their secret hiding spots. That way, when the Boogeyman is gone, they could come and find him and he would be safe. Lancelot could tell them where he is; he'd figure it out and he would only come out when Lancelot came and got him.

To the left there is shouting, so he goes right. The six year old ducks low, staying away from the shadows and corners he doesn't like. The Boogeyman in the dreams was always in the shadows, with its face hidden and its hands reaching out. He starts to climb the familiar stairs up and up, every once in awhile standing on the tips of his toes to glance out of a window, to see more people hurrying around.

The sound of multiple explosions rock the building from far away, and Jason screeches, ducking quickly away from the windowsill. The building seems to groan under the force from outside, and Jason stops for several moments. He crouches with his hands on his ears, until the memory of Camelot and the fear and the sounds surrounding him fades enough to continue. Only when he sure there won't be another sudden white light, that the building will not fall or that his body won't fly around without his control; that's when he stands back up.

He has to get to their secret hiding spot.

Finally he reaches the parapet that travels the length of the castle, and he runs down the walkway towards the spot. Lancelot had shown it to him one time when he had been upset. The other court boys he had been playing with had started teasing him, about being too afraid to climb the big trees in the courtyard; he had been really afraid of going up them. Lancelot had told him he'd help him practice after that, and even though he knew mom wouldn't like it, it had been thrilling to go with Lancelot and find places in the castle where they could explore. On this particular occasion, Lancelot took him up to this side of the wall _all the way_ at the very ending of the castle. There was a spot where the wall had crumbled a bit, making it easy to slip over and into the opening of the round turret below, sticking out from the stone wall. It was like a secret floor, one of the funny little rooms that stuck out from the parapet, with its own floor and rounded wall and ceiling. He could squeeze in through the tall, thin hole, swinging his legs over the edge of the parapet and aiming his body just right.

It is dark and dusty, the air stale, but once inside, crawling in quickly, Jason feels relatively safe. The room is tall, but not very wide, and when he had come here last with Lancelot there had only been a bit of room left after they both were inside. He sits in a corner of the little space, drawing his knees up, and takes a deep breath.

He can stay here. He will stay here till Lancelot grabs him from the foot like last time, and hauls him out. He laughed a lot last time when Lancelot had surprised him. He is a lot higher up then he was in Camelot too, so the explosions can't get him up here, and only little kids like him can squeeze their bodies in here- so he doesn't have to worry about any grownups being able to grab him, because they can't reach.

He rests his face against his knees, closing his eyes as he listens to his breathing. It's the only sound he focuses on, the far off scary stuff not really mattering. He remembers how Tristan had put his head down too like this in Camelot; trying to calm down before bedtime. So, Jason isn't going to think about the scary things. Dad always said when things were scary to just not think about it and he would be safe, so he just breathes: in and out, and in and out, and in and out.

 _But feeling brave is easier when you aren't so alone_. Jason sniffles, wondering where his father is now. He wants to be with him. He would always whoosh in when bad things happen, and no matter what, his dad always would make everything seems so less bad when he did it. And his mom... he would give anything to see her right now. His mom would always… she would just smile and hold him close and tight, _and that was it. Everything would be ok._ Nothing could ever go wrong or get to him if she was there. He hadn't even gotten a chance to tell her about the new blue dream, they haven't even ate breakfast together yet! But- but he wonders if telling again would make everything worse. He had promised not to tell anyone about the secret they had, and then he _did,_ and a terrible thing happened. And then he told Tristan _again_ and… something bad happened, again. So he had decided not to talk anymore, to make sure no more secrets slipped out. Sir Gowther had said that- that was wrong, but… but…

He wants Tristan to come back.

Jason could almost see it; Tristan would grumble a lot about having to come and about having to reach in here and get dirty to get him… But even if Tristan grumbled, he would always laugh and ruffle his hair and toss him over his shoulder after. And Lynette would make a face, grabbing him by one leg and hold him upside down, making a show about keeping him safe...

He feels his eyes getting all watery again. He wants to call out for his mom, his face scrunching up against his knees, but instead he dips his chin down. If he calls out, someone else could hear him. Like the Boogeyman. And that would be bad. Very bad. After seeing the monster in his dreams show up in person in Camelot there was no way he'd let it know he was _here._

Something rubs against Jason's leg and he jolts up, looking down as his heart skips-

Only to cry out with happiness as he scoops up Myrtle, who is sliding along his leg with a low grumbly yowl, his fur covered in dust as his golden eyes glowing in the dark. Pulling the cat into his lap, the prince buries his damp face into its neck. And even though Myrtle gives another meow of protest that echos in the tunnel, the animal flops back against him, letting Jason squeeze him close and murmur into his fur. Jason can feel his heart beating really quick as he giggles softly. All at once he feels better, much much better, and he wonders happily how Myrtle even knew where to find him. He decides that Myrtle must be the smartest cat in all of Britannia, squeezing his arms around it in a tight hug. He has to be magic.

"Thank you," he says quietly. And the two of them settle back into the dark, his cat's tail thumping over and over against the floor as they wait together.

A few silent minutes go by, until Jason hears the sound of something scraping outside. It's a metal sound against rock, and he jerks. He is too scared to look up as he ducks behind his cat, whimpering for a moment... but when the sound continues, again and again, his curiosity gets the better of him, and he peeks out of the hole.

To his surprise Arondight bobs up into view outside of the tall, thin window of the turret. "Lancelot!" Jason cries out in relief, hastily placing Myrtle down by his side to scramble up and out towards the window; but when he finally reaches the edge and looks out…. no one is there.

The spear just hovers in the air, all the way up on the side of the tower, tapping away against the stone as Jason stares. "Lancelot," he whispers to himself; his eyes dart around in one last attempt to try to find him _anywhere,_ before his lip quivers and his chest constricts.

Arondight turns and flies inside, zipping through the small opening of the thin window, and Jason watches as it makes several laps around the tiny space. How is this happening? Jason flattens himself up against the stone wall with a small gasp, scared of what it will do next while it spins and twirls and bobs and looks almost out of control. Only for the spear to come to an abrupt halt in front of him.

He stares at it, waiting, but the spear makes no other moves.

Jason bites his lip and reaches a tentative hand out. His fingers brush along the smooth handle, and he jerks back when it inches closer, floating and vibrating. "Go away," he whispers. The spear bobs up and down again frantically, and then suddenly it explodes with a burst of magic and a surge of white piercing light that overtakes the room.

Jason squeezes his eyes tightly shut, and after a moment, he opens them to find the huge, three-headed dog cramped comically in the space. He gapes, his mouth dropping open as it whines a bit, shifting its large bulk uncomfortably. Jason shouts in surprise, pressing backwards even though there is nowhere to go as one of the heads slams accidently on the ceiling, and it growls in pain, shaking the hit off- and then before he can do anything the dog leans down and all at once all three heads give him big, slobbery licks. His clothing absolutely ruined.

"Ewwww," Jason laughs, rubbing his sleeve over his face, tracking dog-spit all over, "Nasty!" he shouts before they lean forward again, and he can't stop laughing as he reaches a hand out as one of the heads dips down, and with a small giggle he scratches the dog on the side of the snout. Warm air puffs against Jason's face and blows his hair back. One head is the size of him! And he can't help but stare in awe as it rolls its neck to position his attentions near its ear. Myrtle is twisting around his legs, hissing fiercely at the dog, but Jason does not pay the cat any mind as he uses both hands to scratch, the three heads jostling one another for position for his affections.

"You're.. Cabal right?" he asks it softly into one ear, unsure and nervous as the head nudge him urgently, "That's your name? Right?" He scratches right under his giant red eye, remembers Lancelot showing off the dog months ago. He had been standing right on top of one of the heads with his arms stretched out, a giant grin on his face as he screamed for them to look at it. It had been so funny because he fallen off the dog right after that, and Cabal then sat on him. It had been really cool even with his mom and everyone else shouting in surprise at the sudden big dog appearing while they were trying to have a meeting. Uncle Ban and Sir Howzer had laughed hysterically while Dad looked kind of annoyed, but then he had blown out some air and smiled, mom with a hand over her mouth, and then Cabal stole one of the knight's helmets in the room and used it as a chew toy.

Suddenly the center head drops down and nudges Jason out of his memory, and he yelps in surprise; but the dog is not deterred, slipping with one quick movement between his legs and under him. Then the prince finds himself being lifted up and deposited right onto the beast's back, the head jostling to keep him there. "Hey!" he exclaims in shock as he tumbles onto it, and Myrtle yowls on the floor. He quickly reaches down so the cat can jump into his chest and hold on for dear life.

He barely has a moment to grasp the dog's neck before it jumps, knocking through the stone wall with a crash. The wall gives away under a well placed head butt like it was nothing- stone flying outwards in a shower, and the creature pauses just a moment to look down through the freshly made hole, and turn back and sniff him before it leaps out. Jason yells, half in fear and half in exhilaration, clutching Myrtle with one arm and keeping the other wrapped impossibly tight around the dog.

Bits of rock fall around them, but the heads expertly dodge them all. Looking in all directions and jumping down all _ten_ stories- it crashes to the ground below. The ground cracks under its paws, a poof of smoke rushing out around them; and Jason can't stop the yell that escapes him as Cabal runs as fast as it could fly as a spear. Its long legs race under them, taking his breath away. It's out of the east castle front yard in seconds, and it passes the Guards standing upfront so fast all they can do is yell in shock and hurl themselves to the ground as they flash by.

Jason has his eyes squeezed tightly shut, but he can still hear the gasps and shouts, and even high pitched screams as Cabal sprints them down the roads, citizens pointing and staring with wide eyes; but Cabal just keeps running- hopping over anyone who doesn't get out of his way fast enough. Jason squeezes his arms, pressing his face into the short red fur of Cabal's neck, listening to it pant loudly right above his head as they run and run.

Before long they begin to slow, the beast gradually coming to a trot as the sound of more people nearby makes Jason finally open his eyes. They are walking through the open area by the main part of the castle, passing Knights that are ready for battle: weapons out and armor on. There's _loads_ of them. It seems like every single Lioness knight is here, all of them talking or calling out orders, all of them _doing something._ When Cabal stops, and Jason slips down from the dog's back, using a leg to grip onto as he falls to the ground. The dog huffs, eyes intently looking at a few men close by; and Jason nervously peers around the front of the dog as Myrtle hops out of his arms. They had stopped a bit off the path, by the alcove nearby where Jason had just ran away from… and…

His eyes go wide as he takes in the scene. There are people hurt and knights are hurrying around to help them, carrying wounded and bleeding and groaning men and women and using magic. He sees people he knows, maids and guards and castle workers, all of them worse for wear. There are also dots of white around the yard, white sheets covering different sized lumps on the ground, some with people standing or sitting next to them. And, now that he is paying more attention, he sees one figure covered in a large white cloth, and Jason knows right away who it is.

Next to the mound of cloth is his Aunt Elaine. She is always funny, and even though she is not much taller than himself, everyone always listens to her. His dad had always said he should be respectful of her, because she was someone he should look up to. But now he watches something he has never seen before: Elaine is sitting on the ground, crying quietly. Her hands are tucked into her lap and her head is tilted forward as she leans over the white sheet. Her pretty dress is dirty too, the hem and her sleeves frayed. A whine escapes her that makes his heart lurch in his chest.

Cabal trots forward to stand next to the sheet, huffing and panting impatiently as it scratches its paws on the ground. Cautiously, quietly, Jason starts forward, walking slowly to stand next to her. His aunt stares off at nothing, her eyes glazed. He thinks about saying something before they move, barely, to look up all wet and swollen. "Jason… What are you doing here?" She looks around, wiping at her eyes as she holds out an arm, beckoning him closer. "Where is everyone? Why are you alone?"

Jason does not answer. Instead he hurries into her embrace, putting his arms around Aunt Elaine and hugging her tightly, sagging against her lap. He presses his cheek into her collarbone as his spine stiffens, thinking about the body just next to them, and he feels her hesitate for a moment before hugging him back so tightly he huffs. Jason closes his eyes as Elaine begins to cry, harder this time, her entire body heaving as she presses her face onto his hair, rocking them both. He wonders if he did the right thing; if Lancelot would want him to do this. But after a minute her breathing becomes steadier, the sobs dissolving into hiccups.

Finally she sits back a bit, giving him a brief kiss on his brow. "Are you alright?" she whispers. "I can't… Find your father, and Ban isn't-" she chokes, squeezing her arms that are around him. "Are you hurt or anything?" She tries to smile, but her lips wobble too much.

He shakes his head no, snuggling into her lap a bit as he thinks. The giant cerberus is now pacing back and forth on the other side of the cloth, his large red paws stomping right near them, giving an occasional soft whine or high pitch growl. It's attracting attention, people beginning to whisper as Elaine sucks in a deep breath, and she looks at the animal.

She cradles Jason as she watches it closely. "Cabal," she whispers gently, and Jason glances over at the giant beast. The dog regards them both for a long moment- well, one of the heads does, the other two doing other things like sniffing the ground and snapping their jaws and drooling- and then it raises all three of its heads and lets out a long, loud howl.

Jason bolts upright and covers his ears, the little hairs on his arms going straight up, but Elaine just hugs him tighter. "It's okay," she whispers in his ear. "I think he's just sad." Jason frowns and glances over at her face, but Elaine is still watching as the dog resumes its pacing. Her eyes soften as she says, "Do you remember when Lancelot was first trying to create Cabal?" Her voice is quiet. "What a surprise it was… To know it was _truly_ alive." It's as if she's not really talking to him, so Jason uncovers his ears so he can listen. "No other fairy king had ever made such a creature. To give life, with the magic of the King's powers, my brother couldn't fathom it until he saw it with his own eyes. But a three-headed dog was certainly… well it fit Lancelot, didn't it?"

A tear slips down her cheek, and then another, and another and another and Jason chews on his lip as he looks up at the menacing dog, who plops down onto its butt. The terrifying beast looks positively pathetic as it just keeps making those high pitched noises. He can remember too, months ago, before he started having his dreams, right after Tristan left but before Lynette did. Lancelot would practice with Arondight for hours, and Jason would sometimes watch. It was exciting to see him train like that, and Jason had wondered if _he_ would ever have powers like that, powerful enough to be a Holy Knight like Lancelot and Tristan and Lynette-

He perks up, his head jerking from Aunt Elaine's shoulder.

He remembers, there _is_ something he can do.

He can fix things.

Elaine is still talking, whispering about Lancelot, but Jason isn't listening any longer. He slips off of her lap and sits next to her, staring at the sheet and the unmoving form underneath it. It only works sometimes, like when he's really scared or really sad or really, really wants something. Mom and Dad call it healing, and Jason… Well, he always supposed that is close enough. He healed Myrtle when she was just a kitten, holding her close to his chest as he cried, afraid they wouldn't get her back to his mother in time. One time he had healed his friend Mary when she fell out of a tree and landed on her arm, and it had stuck out weird from her elbow as she cried and cried. He had healed his mom in Camelot too, when she was sick, when Jason could see how sad it had made her. That time had been super easy, because he had been so very happy that she had come.

But they don't know about the other times too. Like when he healed his stuffed pig when some older kids tore its ear off, the tears welling up in his eyes after they had run off, their cruel words echoing in his head. Or when he had healed the window in his room when he was kicking a ball, which his mom had told him _not_ to do, as he had stared at the hole in the glass where it had crashed right through, fear churning inside him like boiling water.

It doesn't work every time. He had once broken his new archery set, accidentally stepping on the quiver of little arrows and hearing them snap. He tried to fix them up, but it didn't work, disappointment feeling like a little pit in his stomach. There was another time too, when his brother and sister were both sick after an ice cream eating competition. But he had been laughing too hard, watching them both moan, and Lancelot teasing them about throwing up. He had put his hands on Lynette's shoulders to heal her upset stomach; but she had flopped over with a curse, and Jason had giggled too much to really concentrate.

Hot tears suddenly burn in the corner of his eyes, making his throat feel itchy, and Jason swallows. Can he fix Lancelot?

Suddenly he needs to see him, desperately wanting to believe that he can, and Jason reaches out a hand and pulls on the sheet. "What are you doing?" Elaine tries to shout, but her voice is too hoarse and cranky, and she reaches out to yank his hand away. "Don't do that, Jason. Come away from there!"

Jason looks at her in shock, the fresh tears in her eyes and the furious look on her face making his chest constrict, and he opens his mouth and says, "I can fix him."

She pauses, her eyes going wider than he's ever seen, slightly scary against her pale skin and flushed red cheeks.

"What?" But then Elaine shakes her head, using a hand to cup his cheek. "No, Jason, no. Lancelot, he… I'm sorry honey, but you can't… he can't be _healed."_

"I can _fix_ him," Jason says again. His words are final. He isn't going to heal like mom. He is going to _fix._ He turns and looks back as her hand slips limply from his face. The sheet had fallen away enough to see Lancelot's face: eyes closed, skin a sickly grayish-white. And… And it almost looks like he is sleeping. There is blood dried on his mouth and chin, and Jason swallows nervously.

"Jason…" Elaine whispers, her hand opening and closing, before she looks to the side. He closes his eyes and does what he always does: picture the way it was _before_. That's the trick to fixing things; you have to see them the way they were exactly before they broke. Before.

He imagines Lancelot stopping him and Lynette as she had pulled him across the castle, before their argument in front of everyone, the way Arondight had flashed in his hand as he had turned to push Jason away from his sister's attack. He sees in his mind Lynette thrusting her sword forward, and he whimpers at that part; Lancelot's face a mixture of pain and shock as Lynette pulls it out with a cruel unforgiving glance.

Jason squeezes his eyes shut, thinking hard. He stops the memory there, and then goes back, remembering again and again. Just before. Lancelot swinging Arondight. Lancelot grabbing him. Lancelot hitting Lynette. And stop.

Lancelot swings Arondight. Lancelot grabs him.

Lancelot hits Lynette.

Stop.

His mind goes back a little further. Lancelot tugs him out of the way, Tristan shouting. Lynette steps forward, and Lancelot swings Arondight. He grabs him, then Lancelot hits Lynette.

 _Stop._

He isn't sure if it is working, but he is scared to look and see Lancelot still and silent on the ground. So he runs it like a loop, almost feeling like he's grabbing that moment- like he can gather it up into his arms and _pull-_ until his arms are tingling and his head is pounding, and he _wants_ it to happen _so badly_. _It is happening. It is._ He feels tears sliding down his face but he does not brush them away. Because he has to keep focus on Lancelot. He wants things to go _back to how they were_.

 _Lancelot swings Arondight._

 _Lancelot grabs him._

 _Lancelot hits Lynette._

 _ **Stop.**_

"Lancelot!" Elaine's wild scream startles him out from his mind.

His eyes fly open, and he sees that Lancelot's eyes are open too, wild and staring straight ahead. And suddenly the color returns to his face in a rush, red springing to his cheeks; his lips no longer pale, his skin not grayish like before but with a pink _alive_ tint. He sits up with a jolt and a terribly deep gasp, his arms swinging to the side with a strangled yell as he tries to tackle air. But then Elaine is moving, practically jumping over Jason to grab her son, flinging herself over Lancelot's stomach; crying and rocking him. Her sobs catches Cabal's attention, whose giant heads are now ducking and weaving to sniff at Lancelot desperately. Lancelot struggles a bit, looking wildly around before his eyes settle; his arms flop down, blinking up at his drooling cerberus, before looking between his mother, and finally landing on Jason over her shoulder.

" _Ow._ Fuc- Jason?" he croaks, and Elaine sits back, holding on tight as she sobs. She looks between the two boys with tears blurring her vision, sobbing almost nonsense. "Ma…?" His voice cracks as she clings, her entire body trembling as she brings her hands to his face, feeling the warmth in his skin- and she gasps his name- and Lancelot makes a face, his hands fidgeting before hugging her back. "Hey," he says with some confusion, his voice edged with exhaustion, "ah, come on don't do that, why are ya cryi-" but then Cabal is trying to lick Lancelot's face, hopping up and down excitedly as as Lancelot yells out, distractedly pushing him away.

His hair is sticking up at an odd angle, drool dripping everywhere. "Damn it," he croaks, "what the hell are ya doing, ya over size-!" He's cut off as a giant tongue goes over his face, and when it pulls back his face is shocked and covered with slime.

Jason can't stop laughing as Lancelot glares up at the yipping beast, which is jumping and prancing around like a puppy. Aunt Elaine finally pulls back, patting her face to come back to herself. "How did you- I mean, how-" She chokes on the question, struggling to breathe, panic beginning to cross her face as she looks over at Jason.

"I fixed him," Jason says happily, crawling closer, and they both look down at him. Elaine stares at him strangely, Jason never seeing that expression before, but Lancelot only looks confused, looking around at the destroyed courtyard, his dog, and then back at his mother and Jason. Jason bites his lip in a nervous habit and looks away, suddenly unsure of what to do now. He sees that the people around them are becoming curious from all the noise, knights and castle workers alike mumbling and out right staring, and Jason hurriedly looks back at Aunt Elaine and Lancelot.

"What the hell happened kid?" Lancelot breathes out, his eyes looking off into the distance. "I was fighting… Lynette, she was… you were supposed to get away." He blinks several times, looking at his hands as if he cannot believe they are there; there is still specks of blood dried here or there, but nowhere as close as before, then he reaches down and yanks the sheet away from his body.

His stomach is healed, the skin perfectly smooth and visible under his ruined and blood soaked shirt. Lancelot presses his hands on his torso, swallowing thickly. "I thought she… was it a dream? A hallucination of some kind? Someone screwing with my head?" Then he looks at Jason again, his eyebrows drawing together. "Jason, what… what happened?"

"I fixed you," he replies briskly, grinning as he holds himself up. Lancelot blinks, before slowly nodding his head, reaching out as his mother still gawks. He places a heavy palm on the top of the boy's head, and Jason feels like his heart is soaring, his stomach all warm and tingly. Overwhelmed, he lunges, flinging himself around his brother, happily looking up at Lancelot.

He is alive. _He fixed him._

Lancelot huffs under the sudden human missile that tackles his stomach, and Jason sighs as he feels tentative hands press against his back. He soaks in Lancelot's warmth, his cheek laying flat against him as he closes his eyes in happiness.

"Jason," Elaine asks quietly, cutting off the two boys. One arm is still holding Lancelot tightly, but the other reaches out towards Jason, who looks up at her from Lancelot's lap. She hesitates to touch the side of the little prince's face, and Jason is suddenly confused. Her touch is gentle, like he might break, or like he's something she's not allowed to touch. He scrunches his brows up. "Jason. Did you do this?" Her voice is shaking terribly, tinged with a bit of fear. "How-how did you do this?"

Jason wrinkles his nose as he thinks. "I just wanted him back the way he was. Before Lynette hurt him. And it worked!" He gives a laugh, his eyes going wide. "That was way harder than when I fixed the window!"

"You didn't fix him!" Elaine says sharply. "You brought him back from the dead!"

Lancelot sputters. "Wait, I was _dead_?" he exclaims. "Holy fucking titty shits, are you kidding me?!"

"Lancelot, language!" his mother admonishes. Both the boys gape at her, and she covers her mouth with her hand in surprise. "I'm sorry, it's… a habit."

"I was dead." Lancelot blinks for a moment, letting the words sink in, and then he draws in a deep breath. He looks down at Jason then, and the little boy's breath hitches as Lancelot's entire demeanor changes. He has never seen Lancelot look… Like- like this way before; it's a look that his father gets when serious matters happened, and Uncle Gil, and even Tristan, but never Lancelot.

"I guess… I guess we know now why they want him, then. Holy shit. He can raise the dead?" Lancelot's voice trails off. "If he's this powerful, then they would want to use that, right?"

"Lancelot," Elaine voice is sharp and full of worry, but Lancelot just shakes it off, and before Jason can ask him what he meant Lancelot is glancing over to his mother, who looks extremely nervous. "Where are they? Where is Lynette?" Lancelot's voice is becoming stronger, and he pushes up to stand, setting Jason off his lap as he climbs shakily to his feet, and he holds out a hand. Cabal instantly snaps out of sight, back to the spear form, and Arondight obediently flies into his waiting grip.

Elaine is scrambling up too, pressing her hands on her son's arm. "Lancelot, you can't! You don't- I mean, you just-" She looks around, trying to find someone to help. There are people watching, but they are keeping their distance. Myrtle hops into Jason's lap with a constant angry yowl, so he scoops up the cat and stands too, ready to follow Lancelot.

But Lancelot is shrugging off his pleading mother as he gets his bearings, swishing a hand around in the air in slight annoyance. "I'm not going to _hurt_ her, Ma," he says sharply, cutting her off. "There's something wrong with her. It's not _her_ , and I need to warn everyone. I need to-"

"They're _gone!"_ Elaine shouts, trying to pull on his arms, her voice rising wildly in pitch. "They just disappeared! There was a battle, the Seven deadly sins against- against her! And- but Lancelot! Lancelot you were _dead_." She starts to cry again, her lip wobbling, so Lancelot releases Arondight, letting it hover next to him.

He grips her shoulders as she looks in his eyes. Then Lancelot says, "Mom. Please. Will you get a grip." There is a shocked silent pause before he finishes, "Seriously."

Elaine freezes, and then even she seems surprised by the laugh that springs out from her. She brings up a hand to cover her mouth before blinking away her tears. Finally she nods, Lancelot seemingly waiting patiently for her as a soft but trembling smile comes to her face. He gives her a final look before releasing her, and looks down at Jason with a quick roll of his eyes and Jason ducks behind the cat with a giggle.

Lancelot takes a deep breath, "Okay." He pats his ruined shirt, only the tension radiating from his frame giving away how unsure he really is. "I need to find them then. First, I think…" Lancelot looks around, frowning as his expression goes serious again, deciding what to do, and then looks back to his mother. "Take Jason and get somewhere, maybe find the Grand Master. Jason has to stay safe and away no matter what. I don't know why he can do what he does, but he's important to this. Make sure he stays out of it." He pauses, almost like he's remembering who he is talking to, and he blushes slightly. "I mean, can you do that? Please?"

His mother nods, her eyes wide as if she is seeing him for the first time. Then she turns and holds a hand out to the prince. "Come on, Jason. Let's go."

Jason nods and goes to takes her hand-

But then he loses his footing, knocked over as an incredible wind blows through the yard and whirls around, knocking down people and sending the white sheets up into the sky. It feels as if they are suddenly plunged into a tornado and he can barely yell over the rushing air and the noise and the shouting. He can't see much through the dirt, figures blurring in and out as he's finally lifted into the air, his feet leaving the ground as he starts to let out a scream-

A hand suddenly plunges through the swirling air, grabbing him tightly by the wrist and _yanking him_ back to the ground. He feels the hand tighten, and he squeezes Myrtle against him, the cat yowling and fluffed up into a ball as it digs its claws into him.

All of a sudden it stops. Everything just stops as he's jerked by the change, and he hears crashing around him as things that had been thrown into the sky fall everywhere, things clanging and bouncing, and new people groaning and stumbling to their feet. Jason finally can look over, and sees it's aunt Elaine who had grabbed him, fierce looking and pulling her lips into a frown as she looks out. "What's happening?" she asks over the noise. Lancelot is in front of them, his giant shield firm in his grip, before he stands and looks over to the middle of the courtyard.

"No!" he shouts. The shield turns into the spear in a flash, and Lancelot calls a command faster than Jason can follow it. And then he's swinging his arms with all his might, kicking off as Arondight flies forward with another gust of powerful wind. Elaine is hauling Jason to his feet, Jason trying to follow the movement of the blurred spear, but it's too fast as it shoots through the air. By the time Jason turns his head fully to look there is already a loud hollow thunk, then a ripping sound as the ending of the spear slices through a figure in black kneeling over Lynette, who lays unmoving on the ground. Jason cries out, recognition knocking into him like a blow as he stumbles forward.

"Lancelot!" he screams, and Lancelot jerks, surprised by the sudden hysterics. But Jason realizes a moment later that Lancelot already knows, because Arondight is already pinning it down with its giant blades.

"It's the Boogeyman!" Jason cries. A shiver goes through him, and he clings to Elaine's dress, scared that it is going to reach out for him and snatch him up and eat him whole. But as he watches Lancelot approach the figure, he remembers this isn't a dream. He is awake, and everyone can see it now too; and as he blinks through the cloud of dust that is settling on the courtyard, Jason realizes that it can't move. It can't move and everyone can see it and Lancelot is going to kill it, and all at once Jason isn't afraid anymore.


	29. All That Matters Now

**A/N:** Lickitysplit here, writing my final A/N for this story. There is only one more chapter left to go, and Woundedowl has graciously allowed me space to say my farewell.

Six months ago, Woundedowl sent me a message about an idea she had for a new story, and that message was the start of a strange and amazing journey. Writing with Woundedowl wasn't always easy, but it was _always_ fun, and inspiring, and something I wouldn't trade for anything. I have learned so much from her during the course of this story, about writing and about myself; I am a better writer and a better friend today because of her.

So it is with a very bittersweet feeling, and a few tears, that I offer her my deepest thanks for allowing me to be a part of this. I wish we had another 30 chapters so I could have all the space I needed to express my gratitude and awe for my dear friend.

I also must thank all of you for reading. It was truly an honor for so many people to read and comment on this story, that we really thought no one but us would even find interesting. Your support throughout this was so invaluable, and I feel humbled to have been a part of it.

Rainstorm2122: Thank you so much for your enthusiasm! It was so hard to keep a lid on Lancelot's return and Jason's ability for sure, and we can only hope it paid off in the end.

Whitangel: You're welcome!

BettyBest2: It seems in NNT at least, characters don't stay dead for long… so who are we to argue with Nakaba? I'm glad you are happy Lancelot is back, although I doubt anyone is as happy as Woundedowl. Yes, Meliodas and Elizabeth do seem to make some powerful babies. Here's hoping they stop at three. We're so glad you loved the chapter, especially since we both love you to pieces.

Peacerockgirl123: Wow! Okay, Jason's fine, everything's fine, please don't hurt yourself! Yes, Elaine has been around here and there. Consider this your 'Where's Waldo?' quest to find her in previous chapters. And yes, you are correct, Tristan is the son of Meliodas and Elizabeth in Arthurian legend. As a matter of fact, Woundedowl is a bit of an expert on this subject, and many of the other characters are taken almost directly from the legends as well: Lancelot, Lynette, Tamise, Captain Gene, the antagonist, even the island of Barsil. We did our very best to keep in the spirit of the stories Woundedowl loves so much.

Chapter twenty nine: All That Matters Now

* * *

Lancelot hears Jason's shout behind him over the gusts of wind and his own adrenaline, and his first thought is, _That's the freaking Boogeyman?_

He never looks away from the dark figure trapped by Arondight, not even as the hundreds of Knights around him shout and draw their own swords, or even as Gilthunder appears in a flash of lightning beside him.

"Lancelot!" An armored hand rests heavily onto his shoulder, and Lancelot strains between concentrating on Arondight and looking up as he is spun around. Gilthunder looks relieved, and Lancelot's brows raise high as the man turns to his mother and smiles wobbily. "It's good to see you're up Lancelot! It would have been a shame to lose someone so full of potential! To see you up and running- it's- it's-," Gilthunder is smiling brightly, his eyes _shining_ and… oh no. He's gonna do _that_ -

Suddenly Lancelot is smushed, completely slammed tight into the armored plates of Gilthunder's chest as he hugs him so tightly Lancelot can't breathe. "Oh Lancelot!" Gilthunder gasps, ridiculously loud, "when we saw you dead... to lose you! We had thought we had failed you! But but-!" Lancelot makes more muffled sounds, these more frantic as Gilthunder rests his face against the top of Lancelot's head and starts sobbing really loud tears, completely ignoring Lancelot's kicking feet. He hears his mom's stifled giggle, and Lancelot's ears start to burn.

 _Oh come on!_

Finally Gilthunder pulls back, just enough for Lancelot to loudly gasp in air. Gilthunder grins nervously at him as he slips from his grip, and Lancelot quickly stumbles to his feet, quickly dodging around them.

"Everyone! Be at arms and ready!" Howzer's loud, sharp order echoes around the masses, but it goes right over Lancelot's head as he shrugs off Uncle Gil and keeps walking. He appreciates the sentiment, he does, but he can't celebrate yet, damn it! He isn't done!

As he moves through the wind, he spies the Seven Deadly Sins rising to their feet on the opposite end of the yard. What the hell? Did they fall from the sky? That gust of wind was probably it.

"Keep him with you, ma!" Lancelot calls out to his mother, willing her to stay back as he heads out, walking through the dust and wind still swirling. He glances back to see Elaine pulling Jason close to her side, and he's not worried, he knows how terrifying she can be.

The courtyard is in a panic. He hears Aunt Elizabeth shout something, and to be honest it's all overwhelming. Holy Knights are drawing closer as civilians rush to get away. The guys with more confidence are already approaching the dark, withering thing; weapons drawn and Lancelot dodges under their legs and swoops in further. There are new injuries from the sudden windstorm, a few Knights helping their comrades walk, some still on the floor groaning. The yard is a complete mess.

He just wants to see it up close for himself. He knows some of these Knights, and if anyone tries to pull rank on him for being an apprentice, there was a chance that he'll be ordered away, but he just _has_ to see it. The thing that was inside Lynette, the thing that took over his friend's body and has been terrorizing Britannia for the past year: it is this, he is sure of it, this thing that his Sacred Spear has trapped on the ground. _Whatever the hell it is._ He sees Arondight holding steady against the dark creature's struggle as he finally comes to a stop. And boy, is it trying to get loose. He can hear Lynette's heart beating finally, loud and clear, and he feels nothing but relief. She may be crumpled in a heap, far too close to that hissing and spitting thing, but _she's alive._ And the empty feeling is now no longer coming from the princess, but from the wild thing pinned only a few feet away.

"Lynette!" He hears Aunt Elizabeth cry over the crowd again, and he looks around, trying to see where everyone else is, but they are lost in the masses; drowned out by the loud calls of, "It's the King! Your Majesty!" The Holy Knights are shouting, and everyone is coming closer, "The Seven Deadly Sins have returned!" They were getting swarmed by the Knights, and he can _bet_ uncle Meliodas will start throwing people soon if they don't let him pass.

"What has happened here? Have we been taken again?" Sir Escanor sounds annoyed, which would be _really really bad,_ so Lancelot hopes that maybe it's some other giant guy who's angry. "The fuck?" someone else says. He can see them moving a distance away, as he finally steps close enough where they all have a clear view- his clothing and hair whipping around in the air- and Lancelot looks back at the figure. His hand is still out in front of him, feeling the pressure in his own limbs as the his power flows through the full weight of Arondight, holding it steady. It's _howling,_ clawing gouges around it, jerking over and over and over on the handle. The handle actually crackles with visible energy as the figure jerks and bucks like a wild animal stuck in a trap, the feeling making the hairs on Lancelot's arms stand on end.

The dust finally settles as he steps right up to the thing, a group of Knights following his lead, and he peers down in horror and morbid interest, as it turns its head upwards.

It's a woman. She looks, well, like shit.

She has a cloak on, like Jason had told him. The clothing under it, however, is filthy. It is hanging off a bony, rickety body with drooping skin, covered in dirt and old scars alongside fresh gashes and missing chunks, and the fabric is ripped and covered in grime and unknown stains. The woman's clothes are closer to a giant pile of rags. Her face is long, her nose hooked like it had been broken a couple times, and her hair is just a rats nest under her hood. But… she looks more like something straight out of a nightmare with her longer than normal fingers which are just black, sharp, long ass claws-

 _This is the evil mastermind?_

He can't stop _looking_ at it. Should he say hello? It seemed kind of rude to impale someone with his rod and not even have the courtesy to exchange names.

Then, his hand wavers for just a moment, and her eyes snap to look at him and he jerks back. Holy freaking shit. _She is downright freaky!_

Her eyes are completely milky white; the irises and pupils layered over with a shiny film.

Suddenly a hand is on his arm, yanking him backwards. "Lancelot! Don't touch it!" He jumps, whirling around to see the king himself staring.

Meliodas' eyes dart around his face before he stares down at his blood-covered clothes, his unblemished torso, before he drags his eyes straight to his. "Lancelot? What are you doing here? We thought you were dead." Meliodas goes still, before saying sheepishly, "Not that I'm not happy to see you. Damn it, don't do that again." His hand squeezes Lancelot arm as they take a couple steps away from the still hissing thing. Lancelot tries to make his shrug look nonchalant as Meliodas pats him down- almost as if he was looking for injuries while trying to figure out if he really was there, and Meliodas gives him a long look before his hands flop onto Lancelot's shoulders, giving them a squeeze.

Lancelot shakes his head, coming back to himself. "No wait! Look, it wasn't Lynette!" Lancelot exclaims loudly. "I was trying to figure it out during the meeting but I got sidetracked!" He points a finger at the woman on the ground and yells, "It was this creep! Lynette was possessed, I swear it! This might sound stupid but this thing is the Boogeyman!"

"Yeah. I know," Meliodas cuts him off, his eyes narrowed as he looks over his shoulder to stare at her. His eyes flicker between his daughter and it, and Lancelot gasps.

"Wait what?" Lancelot's jaw drops. "You… believe me?"

"Uh huh," Meliodas says blandly, and Lancelot's mouth clicks shut, staring in awe before he puts a pinkie in his ear and wiggles it around, just to make sure his hearing is good. Did his uncle just… _agree with him?_ "The Boogeyman huh? This thing wants Jason _._ " Meliodas releases Lancelot who nods weakly, and steps carefully around the woman. "Good work trapping her." She gives a menacing hiss at them, black _sludge_ staining her teeth as she struggles to pull the spear free from her body, and then she lets out high pitched scream that raises goosebumps on Lancelot's arms. The king raises his brows, unimpressed and says over her yelling, "How the hell did you stop her? You did this before too, on the tower. Nice job kid." His head tilts to the side, inspecting the spear.

"Uh," Lancelot freezes. "Well…" Lancelot shakes his head, trying to come up with something. Hell, when was the last time anyone believed him about _anything?_ \- but suddenly he's swept up by two large hands grabbing him up, into a crushing embrace.

He can hear his dad's voice in his ear. "Lancelot! Lancelot, fuck is that you? Is that _you_?" Ban is practically squeezing him in half. He's got his son up and snug into his chest, and suddenly Lancelot misses Gilthunder's "weak" hold. Dad's pants are shredded and his shirt is gone, and Lancelot tries to tell him to ease up a bit, but all that comes out is a wheeze. _"Pop… breathing…"_

His dad ignores him, or maybe he can't hear him as he holds him so freaking tight his face is turning colors. There is a hand on the back of his head, that's smushing his face against his dad's naked chest- and _oh for fucks sakes_ \- Lancelot's tries to wiggle out, but it's a lost cause. Damn being this small! Another long moment passes where his father doesn't say anything, and finally Lancelot stops struggling.

" _Pop?"_ he croaks softly, finally, turning his head as much as he can as he instinctively reaches out to feel his father's heart. Ban… is actually shaking. A fine tiny tremor twitches under his fingers.

 _Ah crap._

"How? How?" Ban doesn't let up or set him down, but holds him straight out, Lancelot giving him a withered look as his dad's hands go under his arms. Ban drags his eyes up and down his son in shock. "You were-"

"Yeah, I mean," he says quickly, looking over to Meliodas for help. But the king is still examining the creature on the ground. Damn it! "Pa, I'm not now. See, it's fine." Lancelot tries to sound reassuring, but truthfully he's nervous that his father is about to freak out. His mother was bad enough, but if _his old man_ loses it…

Then she is just there, zooming into Lancelot's back and pushing him between their firm grips. And then they are all crushed together, him in the middle; his parents crying and laughing and _ugh now they're kissing_? _And cuddling?! Oh no, no no people could_ _ **see**_ _this!_ Lancelot somehow extracts himself from their embarrassingly happy moment, his face bright red as he stumbles away. He peers over and sees Jason giving Meliodas a giant hug, hanging off him like a little monkey as his dad lifts him up, returning the hug just as strongly, and Lancelot tries to make a fast exit.

Suddenly Aunt Elizabeth seems to just swoop in from nowhere, covered in dirt. "Jason!" she gasps, scooping Jason out of his father's hold and into a hug, her expression ecstatic as the boy laughs and giggles from the endless kisses she lays all over his face, and excitedly starts to tell her about everything that happened. And _wow_ does Aunty look relieved that he is taking again. She makes a move towards Lynette, but Meliodas cuts her off quickly, ordering the knights around them.

Then Lancelot spots Tristan.

The prince is on his knees on the other side of the field, his palms pressed on his legs, and he is staring at Lancelot in utter shock. Lancelot frowns for a second. What the hell? Where the hell did they all go off to? They look like shit, as if they had been dragged through hell. Dang it, did he miss something amazingly cool again?

He hurries his pace, crouching down in front of him, putting his hands on his shoulders. "Hey, man, are ya-?"

For the fourth time in the span of a few minutes Lancelot finds himself in a crushing embrace. It was getting to be a bit old at this point. "Lancelot!" his friend whispers harshly, his voice choking with emotion. "How… _you're alive!"_ Tristan's voice wobbles, something Lancelot hasn't heard in years, and he hugs him tight.

"I know, people keep telling me," he barks out as a laugh, and Tristan sags against him a bit. Lancelot grips him tightly and leans back. "Man, ya look like shit." Tristan doesn't react, his eyes piercing as they stare at each other.

"Lancelot… I'm sorry, I should have-"

"Hey," he says, giving his friend a quick shake. "Are you alright?" Lancelot squeezes his fingers into his shoulder, and he can _feel_ the tiny tremors vibrating his muscles. "What happened to you?" He looks at Tristan's absolutely destroyed armor and clothes, the blood on his chin and neck and shoulder, "Holy shit man, you look worse than me."

Tristan opens his mouth to answer him, and then immediately snaps shut. Then he blinks a few times- like he needed to come back to himself- before finally answering, "You'll never believe it."

Lancelot laughs and thumps his arm as Tristan leans forward, gripping him close and holding on, and they stay like that for another second… until Lancelot chuckles. And then he starts to giggle, over and over stupidly until Tristan leans back to give him a look of pure annoyance, the moment completely ruined. But he's still shaking, his arms held out to grip Lancelot's tightly. "But come on, try me. I did just come back from the dead you know."

Tristan's eyes go huge, and he chokes, "Lynette, she- she didn't mean it- she's-"

"Yeah I know. It wasn't her, I was trying to tell you." Lancelot wanted to lighten the moment with his jokes, but now he is afraid that if he lets him go Tristan will fall over, so he keeps a firm grip on him. The prince is looking worse by the minute, a grimace covering his face as sweat starts gathering on his brow, his skin losing it color, and Lancelot calls out quickly, "Uh, Aunt Elizabeth? We need a little help over here!"

"I'm fine," Tristan insists, which doesn't work for Lancelot, and when he suddenly tilts dangerously to the side Lancelot grabs him up and pushes him back into a sitting position. Elizabeth looks over, putting Jason down and hurries over to help, her hands fretting and glowing as she drops to her knees and grips Tristan's shoulders. They help Tristan steady himself, his shoulders slumping forward in exhaustion, and Lancelot watches as the cuts and bruises on the prince fade. When he is healed he looks up, blinking in surprise as Elizabeth sweeps her fingers through his hair in a loving motion, before hugging him tight. Jason leans against her, resting his head on her, and she puts her other arm around him too, the impromptu family hug making Lancelot laugh.

"I'm so glad. All of us are okay, and we are all together again," she whispers. Then she turns her smile to Lancelot, and he returns it brightly. "Are you alright? Do you…?"

Her eyes travel down his torn shirt, and Lancelot hurries to say, "Oh no, I'm totally fine. Jason, he… he really did it." He grins, giving Jason a thumbs up as the kid ducks his head under his mother's chin shyly. This kid, he was something else sometimes.

Elizabeth frowns and turns to the boy. "Jason, how did… I mean can you tell me how you did this please?" she asks gently. "Is this like when you healed me?"

Jason nods eagerly. "Yeah! I just closed my eyes like this…" here he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, "...and then I told Lancelot to stop before he got hurt!" He makes a motion with his hands, like he was tugging something hard. He opens his eyes excitedly, but she only draws her brows down in confusion. "You told him to stop?" Tristan asks, startling Lancelot with the harsh edge to his voice. "What do you mean?"

The prince nods again. "Just like I said! I remembered Lancelot but I made it stop before it got to the part where he was hurt. You were there too; I stopped it _right_ before. That's how you fix stuff."

The three of them look at one another, and Tristan asks, "Mom, is that- is that what you do too?"

"No," she whispers. She gives Jason a reassuring smile, squeezing his shoulder.

"Is Lynette okay?" Jason suddenly asks, and Elizabeth freezes. She opens her mouth, before closing it, unsure of how to answer as her eyes dart to a grim Tristan.

Meanwhile, Lancelot leans his back against Tristan, sitting down. Lancelot focuses his eyes on the ground, his chin resting on his hand, trying to replay his fight with Lynette. He remembers that she had tried to go around him, and he grabbed Jason to pull him away. Then he had turned, shoving him towards Tristan, and swung Arondight around his body. The plan had been so clear in his mind, and it still is: to hit Lynette, disable or disarm her, and then break the hammer. Lancelot can see the moment he struck her, feel the twist of guilt as she had stumbled back, and then…

Nothing.

There is nothing there. Shouldn't- shouldn't there be more?

But it doesn't feel that way at all. Lancelot's shoulders tense, a memory flying to the front of his mind: Elizabeth and Meliodas arguing, only a couple days ago.

 _"I asked Gowther to look inside my memories. I did. And he checked and found that there is nothing wrong with them. I don't have any missing memories!"_

Lancelot's looks over at Jason. But that was _before_ Jason had healed her. He had brought the boy to see the queen in Camelot. Lancelot was there when they reunited-or met-whatever it was. Elizabeth had healed Jason's arm, and at the same time, Jason had healed her, too. And after that, she hadn't had a single episode.

" _I want you to get better too."_

What… What was going on right now?

He stares at Jason who is sandwiched between his brother and his mom, shyly looking around. It was like- it was like what aunty had said about her own curse, right? He was sounding like her, he was going through the same things…?

No, it's impossible. He isn't under a curse, he's just having… trouble remembering. And he didn't have time for this! They still had to deal with that… thing everyone was surrounding, while the four of them hugged and talked. They still had work to do.

He stands, ready to go back to the king and deal with this asshole who killed so many people, who had tried to destroy his friends and his family. He looks at Jason… damn it, why hadn't he paid better attention these past couple weeks? He had been too absorbed with his own problems; then another memory surfaces.

" _So who has the opposite power of your mother?"_

" _Jason's a healer… but that's the same, not different."_

" _Perhaps he does it in another way?"_

That's what Tamise had told them. Two opposites, two powers mixing. There would be a reaction. And suddenly Lancelot can barely breathe, as he finally understands.

" _So if Tristan's the opposite of the king, who's the queen's?"_

" _Perhaps he does it in another way?"_

Jason's power works the opposite of Elizabeth's, Lancelot is _sure_ of it. But how, exactly, he doesn't completely know yet. Lancelot glances down at his stomach. Elizabeth can't heal the dead. Neither can Jason. No one can. But Jason can…

He doesn't understand. The queen had healed him a number of times, gashes and cuts and a broken tailbone once when he had tried to scare Lynette and ended up falling off a railing. All the way up until Camelot, when she had healed his legs that had been crushed. He winces at the memory, remembering the pain of feeling the bones and muscles and skin rapidly sewing itself together, bonding itself back together until they were whole.

His legs had healed in a matter of minutes, something that would have taken months. Lancelot cannot take his eyes away from Jason as he remembers the rushing of his blood in his body as it rapidly mended itself together.

" _I remembered Lancelot but I made it stop before it got to the part where he was hurt."_

Lancelot shakes his head, trying to make sense of this, when he hears his name. "Lancelot! Over here!" They all stand and follow him as he walks back to where the Sins are gathered. There are Holy Knights there too, and Gilthunder and Howzer with weapons drawn; all eyes are on Lancelot, for the first time.

Guess it was time to figure out what to do with this thing.

* * *

Meliodas watches him walk over, still stunned that he is alive. But then again, coming back from the dead is a family tradition at this point. Ban, Elaine… and now Lancelot. He shakes his head, a rush of relief that Ban's boy was finally showing signs of taking after his father, despite the huge question of _how_ that still needed answering, before he pushes that thought away. That is a mystery to solve for another time. Right now, he needs to focus on this… _thing._

"Lancelot," he says, "I want you to get ready to pull Arondight when I say." He doesn't bother to look to see if he answers, knowing that everyone is focused on him now. The king moves to stand next to the creature's head, and its eyes fly up to meet his. The darkness that surrounds it tries to lash out, but somehow the power of the Sacred Spear is keeping it in check.

He stands above it for a moment.

"Do you know who I am? You have to, coming after us so much," Meliodas asks. It only snarls at him, and his eyes go colder. "You were talkative while inside my daughter. What now, hmm?" Another moment goes by and he says, "If you can speak, then speak, and you may spare your life."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Captain," Ban says, his words slow but with an undeniable threat.

Meliodas ignores him and crouches down. "What are you? What's your name?" he asks. "You don't feel like a demon. Nah, you aren't that."

"I am no demon," it spits at him, the voice unmistakably female. It's scratchy, hoarse as if it isn't often used. He brings up a finger to whip the black spit off of his cheek. He glances down at his thumb, before making eye contact again.

"Good, so you can talk." The woman struggles a bit, looking away as she hisses unintelligently. It was probably hard to pay attention to him, with all that pain she's in, but Meliodas can't find it in him to care. "Why don't you start by telling us about this curse? Why did you go after these fourteen people?"

She looks at him suddenly, before her eyes snap to the side, behind him. And Meliodas can see a mixture of hate and pain in her eyes, which catches him off guard. "People?" she drawls the word, her eyes bulging. "Still haven't figured that out? Can't figure it out?" she hisses slowly, sneering, "Why would you? It's a bit of old magic, even older than _you,_ I'd say." She isn't saying this to him… And his hand twitches, his eyes narrowing as he feels Elizabeth tense up.

"Don't be so sure about that," Ban says, but Meliodas frowns. "Older than me? So you do know who I am. How did you come in contact with this magic?"

No answer.

"Why did you curse these people?"

She does not answer, turning her head away as she digs her claws into the ground, scratching at the gouges. "If you know who I am, then you must have been here for a very, very long time. We could be family, you and I."

"Family," she croaks harshly. Then she looks… confused? "Family. Family… thieves took our family."

"Is that why you are trying to take mine?" Meliodas leans forward a bit until his face is within her view. Her pale eyes snap back to his, and they are inches apart. The witch curls back her lips, baring her black gums. "You put a curse on the queen, and then took possession of my daughter. You tried to do the same with the prince. You've been giving my youngest son these dreams-"

"Royalty!" she screeches, tugging on Lancelot's spear, " _My_ son?" She gives another scream and then continues, "Where is he? Why do you have him?" Meliodas arches his brows, and she goes on, "They _took_ him from me, so I will _take_ all of Britannia back. I will have all of it! I should have him! Give me Jason!"

Meliodas pulls back in surprise. "Yours?" he asks. His question is met with silence, so he continues, "If you tell me everything, then I would consider letting you go."

"Captain!" several of them shout, sounding outraged, and he stands upright and rolls his eyes, giving them a steady, blank look. He looks over at the other Sins, at Howzer and Gilthunder who looks offended on his behalf, even more of his Knights ready to speak up against him. Meliodas says over his shoulder, "If she is as old as this, then she could be harmless! She is caught, powerless! We do not kill the defenseless like animals in Lioness!" His eyes shift over to meet Merlin's. "Britannia doesn't have enough power left. Isn't that what you said? She couldn't do this on her own." Merlin slowly nods, her eyes piercing as she looks at the sorceress on the ground, until Ban steps forward. "Can we figure out how she did what she did? Who or what may have helped her?"

"Certainly, hmmmm… with enough time," Merlin brings a finger up to her chin tapping over and over, slowly smiling.

"Captain," Ban growls. "If you don't want to kill her for whatever self righteous bull, I'd be happy to."

"Not this time." Meliodas shakes his head. "You really want to kill this thing? Does she look dangerous to you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, she looks dangerous," he answers blandly. His stance was lazy, but Meliodas knew his friend well enough to know he could snap out his sacred weapon at any second.

"Captain," Escanor says, "how do you know that once you let her up, she will not simply hop back into the princess? Or someone else? She could go into you."

"Escanor is, unfortunately, right." Merlin steps up next to him, Aldan spinning in her palm. "The fairy magic is keeping her contained for now. If her claim is true and she is as old as she says, then using the power of the Sacred Tree would be effective. If you release her, she could still strike."

Gilthunder sighs. "We can't keep her pinned to the ground forever. We have to let her up eventually. She needs a trial to face her crimes."

"Like I said," says Ban, "I'd be happy to take care of it." Meliodas opens his mouth to protest, but Ban cuts him off, holding up a hand. "She did kill my son."

"And she stalked mine," the king responds blandly, but the sideways look he gives Ban stops him from approaching any further. "Before she went after my wife and daughter and my other son, too. I get it."

"If Ban won't do it, I will," King says.

Scowling, Meliodas folds his arms. "We aren't playing a lottery for who gets to kill who. We don't kill prisoners. Especially someone defenseless, someone weaker than us."

"Then how did she perform all those curses?" King shot back.

Meliodas turns his head and looks straight at Lancelot, who is standing just a few feet away, watching silently. "How are you alive?" he asks.

"Uh…?" He freezes under the sudden gazes of everyone there.

"Jason," Elaine answers for him, stepping forward from the side. "Jason, he brought him back."

"Jason?" Meliodas shakes his head in confusion. "No. There's no way. He's not strong enough for such magic, it isn't-"

"But he did it!" Lancelot insists. "I mean, I'm standing here, aren't I?" He shrugs, looking over to his mother. "It's true," Elaine says firmly. "I saw it. I was sitting next to him when Lancelot was- he was-"

"I was dead," he finishes lamely. "Kaput. Dead as a doornail, you get it. Jason said he _fixed_ me. Not healed, fixed." He peers around the others to smile at the prince, who is holding on tightly to the hem of Elizabeth's dress, peeking out from behind her. "Isn't that what you said? I think- okay, I know this sounds crazy." Meliodas gives him a blank look. "But I don't think he can heal. I think Jason turns back time."

There is a moment of silence before whispering begins to spread through the courtyard, and then Meliodas hears Merlin murmur next to him, "Very interesting." He is about to ask her what she has to say but Lancelot hurries on, "Tristan! Tristan, tell them what Tamise told us, about the opposites."

"Opposites?" Meliodas' eyes flicker over to Tristan as the others begin to debate what to do next.

His son looks more tired than he has ever seen him.

He is relieved to see the demon mark gone, and many of the injuries are gone too; Meliodas assumes a combination of his son's powers and Elizabeth have healed him. He remembers what Merlin had suggested days ago, when they were in Camelot: _You should go ask him what he learned on Barsil_. Suddenly he wonders what she may have meant, now that Lancelot has brought it up again he can only assume it's important. But… so many strange things had happened since Elizabeth's curse, not the least of which was the way his _Full Counter_ had failed against Tristan… he hasn't been able to pay much attention to his son, as he should have. The prince draws in a breath once, twice, and Meliodas takes a step towards him.

"Tristan." Their eyes meet and Meliodas sees his son's shoulders tense, subconsciously taking a step closer to Lancelot. But he doesn't stop, coming closer to rest a hand on his shoulder, squeezing tightly as he feels the still fine tremors shaking him. The knights and the Sins continue to debate what to do with the prisoner, but Meliodas tunes them out for a moment. "How are you feeling? Elizabeth may have healed your body but after using that much demonic magic, you should be feeling it."

"Yes, I- I don't think I've felt this... _tired_ before." He hesitates before Meliodas nods, and looks nervously back at him, before saying, "The emotions are gone though. I feel more like myself... and, Father, I-" Meliodas catches him by surprise as he tugs him forward by the arm, and before he can say anything Meliodas has a hand on the back of his head as he holds Tristan in a tight hug.

The kind does not care about being in public at all. Because it didn't matter. Who cares if he is king right now? Not him, not now, when only a few moment ago his son was aiming his sword at him. He squeezes his arm around Tristan, ruffling his hair like he's done his entire life. "I'm sorry," Meliodas says, looking straight ahead. "We'll talk. We'll sit down and talk after this, I promise, Tristan."

A silent moment ticks by, before he feels Tristan's arm slowly raise up and return the embrace. He keeps them there, his cheek against his silver hair, waiting to hear his son's reaction, just wanting to protect him from all of this. Then Meliodas all at once remembers, as Tristan pulls himself together, pulling away and revealing a determined and steadfast gaze, even with glassy eyes, that he isn't a child who needs his protection anymore.

His son really is a Holy Knight now, and he has been, even though Meliodas is truly seeing it for the first time.

Drawing his own deep breath, he pats Tristan solidly on the shoulders one last time. "We'll talk about Barsil, after we figure out what to do with this thing." He hears Ban snort noncommittally, and then Meliodas walks over to Elizabeth. She looks back at him nervously, but then her eyes soften and she smiles. He places a hand on her waist, rubbing up and down before returning her smile. Then he looks at Jason, who is staring up with wide eyes. Meliodas leans down, happy to see his gaze is unafraid, unlike before. "Jason? Is this all true?"

The boy nods. "I fixed him," Jason says quietly. Meliodas leans down and scoops him up in one arm. "You sure did," he answers in amazement.

An enraged scream erupts from behind him, and Jason ducks into his neck. "Don't let her eat me," Jason whispers, and Meliodas pats him on the back; then to his surprise, Elizabeth steps around him. "Hey, Elizabeth?" he says, reaching to grab her arm, "What are you doing?" But she sidesteps him and walks over to stand next to the woman.

King floats beside her, pressing to try to block her way. "Your Majesty, please! That isn't-" he tries to say but she ignores him, walking forward to sink down and kneel next to the woman. "Are you hurt?" she asks quietly. "I can heal you if you are."

She reaches a tentative hand out, the edges glowing softly as her right eye comes unhidden from the fringe of her hair. The woman stares, before flinching away violently and giving a high pitched whine, so Elizabeth pulls away, nodding. "It's all right. I understand. But why were you screaming?"

The woman's eyes dart from Elizabeth to over her shoulder, and Elizabeth turns around. Meliodas locks his gaze with hers for a moment, and then he turns and hands Jason to Tristan. The woman watches, captivated, her eyes trailing _longingly_ as the prince takes Jason into his arms. Tristan suddenly looks uncomfortable as they step back, and Meliodas moves slowly to stand next to the queen. "That is my son, Jason," Elizabeth says gently.

The woman seems to snap. Her body seizes, arching off the ground, and she lets loose a howl.

" _Your_ son!" she screams, yanking herself against the spear in an attempt to lunge forward. " _Your_ son!" Suddenly Elizabeth is being pulled back, just in time as a row of black claws barely miss her face.

Meliodas grits his teeth at the sound of her screeching, and his Knights speak up over her racket around him; they are finally through with the waiting. Calls for her execution are being shouted around them, yells to avenge fallen comrades or to rid themselves of this criminal; and he grabs Elizabeth by the elbow to pull her away. They look around as more people yell, but Elizabeth resists his pull. Her eyes remain steady on the screeching woman, and only responds calmly, "Yes, that is my son."

"Your son my son your son my son," the woman mutters loudly, hissing something unintelligible, and then her eyes snap to Elizabeth in rage. "He isn't _yours_! Not _this_ you!"

He feels Elizabeth stiffen next to him, and she just signed her own death sentence, but Elizabeth's voice is still calm as she answers, "You're right. He isn't mine, not yet. But he will be."

"He _won't_ be," the woman says with a terrible laugh. " _You_ are here, remember? Here, never there." She laughs again, her hands stretching out to her sides and scraping terribly along the stone beneath them. "You can't be his mother. You won't be there for it. And now that _she_ is gone, I will have him back."

Meliodas' pulse races hearing her threatening words. "Is that why you cursed the queen?" he asks before he can stop himself. "To take Jason?"

The woman ignores him, reaching her hand out towards Elizabeth. To his surprise, Elizabeth still has a perfectly calm expression, as if she is exchanging pleasantries. "Is that why you sent the queen away?" she asks. "You wanted to have a son?"

"I _have_ a son. I _had_ a son. _My_ son your son my son." Her fingers stretch out, and Elizabeth inches closer. "What about the others who were cursed?" she asks.

"They _took_ my son," she says. "They took my son so I will take everything else. Don't you understand that?"

Elizabeth covers her mouth with her hand, and Meliodas reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. "I'm sorry that happened to you," murmurs Elizabeth. "My son's name is Jason. What is your son's name?"

A groan erupts from the woman before she goes suddenly, terrifyingly silent; and then she whispers, "Mabon. Maaaabooon." She moans his name, before bringing her own hand up to claw at her face, scratching at her skin and hair. "Soulless children don't come back," she says pathetically, "they don't come back. I found him he's _right here."_

"Mabon?" She looks sharply back at Elizabeth when she hears the princess says his name. "Is that his name? We can help you. If someone kidnapped your child… we can, we can find him. If you… if you help us, we can help you find him together."

Meliodas hears Merlin give a sharp intake of breath, and he glances up at her. They lock eyes, and he can see instantly that she knows something. Another piece of the puzzle has settled into place, but he keeps his peace, hoping that Elizabeth can keep the woman talking.

"This is the mastermind?" Diane finally has enough, saying incredulously, "No way!"

"I can not help but agree," Escanor speaks up, murmurs of agreement spreading around them, "I can not believe this is the same person who has attacked two kingdoms and destroyed countless families. She barely knows what's is happening at the present, less such complex trickery!"

Elizabeth begins to reach out to take the hand that has been stretching towards her. "You don't have to attack anyone. The curses aren't needed. We can find him, and-"

The woman shrinks back a bit, starting to writhe around. Her hands grip the handle of the Sacred Spear in an attempt to pull it out. Suddenly she is thrashing and twisting on the ground, struggling to push Arondight off of her, and Lancelot steps forward, ready to take possession of the spear if the king gives a command.

"Elizabeth," Meliodas hisses, pulling her up against him. "Stand back."

"Please," she says, turning to him, her hands grabbing his arms. "Please don't hurt her! Can't you see…" Her voice trails off as she looks back at the screeching woman struggling on the ground. "They… they're right. She couldn't have pulled me here! There's is something the matter with her. She isn't right. Whatever her reason, she… she is suffering, _she's ill."_

A single tear slips down her cheek, and Meliodas reaches up to brush it gently away. He thinks of the first time he saw her cry, weeping into that horrible meal he had made her in the Boar's Hat, before he even knew her name. It had seemed to him then as she cried that she may as well be made of glass, her heart was so fragile. But now he knows it was because her heart is strong. Only his Elizabeth could shed tears over the pain of someone who had done such terrible things.

"I won't hurt her," he says; but at the same time, there is a shift in the corner of his eye, a change in the air around them. Lancelot shouts something while King yells his name, and Meliodas turns to where his sons are standing together. Lancelot is suddenly sliding to the ground, his left arm shaking horribly as he tries to hold it up, and the Fairy King curses up as storm as a wind starts to pick up again.

Something is happening behind Meliodas, but his eyes lock on Tristan's face, his eyes and mouth open in horror as he turns ten shades paler. "Dad," he croaks, his voice tight as he flinches, his legs shaking, and Meliodas takes a step closer.

"Dad," Tristan says again, looking like he needs to say more but he's shaking in strain, and he tries to hand Jason back to him as his arms almost give out. The younger boy is trembling too, his head bowed and his arms go tightly around his father's neck the moment he has him. "What's wrong?" Meliodas presses, hearing his whimper as Jason jerks, once, and twice again against his chest. He still hasn't turned around, and he ignores the raised voices behind him as he worries about the two of them. "Tristan, what's wrong?"

"This is my dream," Jason barely says into his shoulder, and Meliodas snaps his head to look down at him. "This is…" Jason slurs, _why is he slurring his words?_ Meliodas tilts him back, and sees that the boy's eyes are glassy, one eyelid hanging lower than the other. "This is m'blue dream, Tristan is gonna cry," he says weakly, and Meliodas shakes him, trying to wake him up from his bout of dizziness.

"Your blue…?" The meaning registers suddenly, and he looks startled over at Tristan, who is shaking far worse. "Tristan?" he holds out his free hand, trying to steady him as Gilthunder calls his name, trying to break Tristan out from whatever is befalling him, "Tristan! Just- just wait- Merlin!" He looks behind him, the panic building, the feeling of _not knowing what to do_ making him shout, "Merlin, I need you!"

Lancelot is cussing too loud, and there is a rumble under his feet as Tristan gasps painfully, everyone moving around as the prince crumbles into himself. Suddenly Jason goes limp, and he hears the woman screech behind at impossible octave, the same as before when they were in the past.

The sound jolts him, and all at once he feels an incredible surge of power from his son, now unconscious in his arms, the sudden force nearly causing him to drop him. " _No!_ Jason! Jason, hold on!" Meliodas stumbles to one knee, clenching his teeth as he tries to hold onto him, even as wave after wave of searing power rolls from him, blowing against him like a storm. The ground cracks, a surge of power like a whirlwind forming around Jason and pushing everyone away.

"What is happening!"

"By god's is that coming from the prince!"

"It's another attack!"

Cries ring around them, the shouting returning as people duck under the furious windstorm. There's clattering and loud crashes, and he hears yells and screams- Diane ducking down with her head down by her knees, King holding onto her shoulder as weapons are crashed into the ground, people trying to have something to hang onto.

"Meliodas!" Elizabeth is calling his name, yelling over the wind, and then she puts her arms in front of her, struggling to take the few steps it takes to grabs Tristan by the shoulder, but he only stares at Jason in shock. The pulsing wind is trying to push him away, his skin on his hands crackling and burning as he keeps a tight grip on him. _How?_

 _How is this much power coming from him?_ Lancelot had said he could turn back time… but Meliodas hadn't really believed it. He is a child, the level of power required for even bringing _him back,_ that would be absurd for a child, but this… His bleeding hand goes to Jason's forehead and he finds it feverish. _What was happening to Jason!_

"Your Highness! Meliodas!" People are calling for him, but he can't look away, grinding his teeth so hard they could crack.

Elizabeth is there, how he can't be sure, but her hands are now cradling Jason's face, who is now unconscious, his cheeks flushed, and Merlin and Diane, all of them surround him as they fight against the wind. "His… his power…" Meliodas chokes out, and Merlin swipes her hand down, shouting out, "We all feel it. She's using him." Meliodas looks up at the mage in terror. "She's pushing her power into him, and it's changing, somehow."

"Jason said- he said this is his dream-!"

Tristan is screaming, crying out in pain as he withers, and Meliodas head snaps to the side. His cries were awful, far worse than anything he had heard before.

"F- father," Tristan cries, curling into himself as Meliodas sees the fear in his eyes. He pushes Jason's limp form towards Merlin, sure she can hang on to him, and jumps up, grabbing Tristan by the shoulders. "Hang on! I'm not going to let his happen! Just hang on!"

"There's something-" he murmurs, his face curled up in pain, and Tristan hand goes to the back of his neck, his fingers twitching. Meliodas has seen that move too many times; all he can think of is how many times he's seen Elizabeth do the same thing over and over again and again, and he grabs his son's arm and yanks it away.

He looks down and goes cold, when he sees Tristan's hand is fading.

Meliodas feels something he hasn't in a very, very long time: panic. He can see right through not only his skin, but his clothes. He looks up into Tristan's eyes in horror, but _he can see the people standing behind him,_ a side of his face already see through.

 _Is this what happened to Elizabeth as she had laid in bed with him, fading away to nothing?_

Did she know when it happened? Was she awake, was she scared, did she try to call out for him? Or had she been sleeping, silently slipping away forever? He grips Tristan's forearms as the prince cries out, the pain making him howl and wither, and Meliodas is determined not to let him go. He will not allow him to fade away, he will not lose him the way he had lost his mother. He can't!

"Stop her!" Meliodas screams, his voice shrill with fright, but he does not care. "Someone stop her, please!" He has no idea what to do, and that sensation is altogether foreign to him. All he knows for certain is if he just holds on tight enough, he can keep Tristan here, keep him from disappearing into nothing; whether or not that's even true doesn't matter compared to his need to hold onto him. He couldn't lose him. He can't lose him like he lost Elizabeth!

The wind is blowing with increasing speed around them, and Meliodas decides he must act. Yet as he turns around, he sees that the others have all had the same idea.

"Now, Lancelot!" Ban shouts. Lancelot nods and grips Arondight by the handle and yanks it out of the creature with one swift movement; and in the next, in a fraction of a second there is an explosion of magic, as attacks come from every direction: Ban, Diane, King, Gowther, Escanor, even Gilthunder and Howzer, and the other Holy Knights that surround them. Dozens, maybe hundreds of voices ring out as they answer their king's call. All of the attacks are sent at the woman in a flurry of sound and light and searing heat, and she gives a wretched howl before they are blinded by the explosion it causes.

The aftermath _rocks_ Lioness. Buildings shake, the ground vibrating so hard people are lifted off their feet and thrown around their homes, the aftershock pushing passed the iron gates of the Kingdom and blowing into the mountains surrounding them.

Then, it stops. The winds still immediately, the sky covered in a gray haze, and Tristan coughs over and over, a hand clenching his throat as his veins bulge, his face red. Meliodas catches him with the grip he has not loosened, and when he looks down, he sees that Tristan's hands are solid, no longer fading.

"Tristan?" he cries, releasing one arm to press a palm on his cheek. "Tristan, is that you? Are you still here? Say something!" His pulse pounds in his head, his heart thundering as Tristan catches his breath, lowering his hand. And he doesn't know what he will do- if Tristan is suddenly not himself. If he is another version of his son.

"I'm here," he finally pants, closing his eyes and nodding his head. "I'm fine. I'm here."

"You're here," Meliodas repeats, and then he grabs him into a tight hug. Tristan returns the embrace, his hands firm and sure on his back, and Meliodas breathes a sigh of relief. He had broken his promise to Elizabeth, but their son was alive and well, and he prays that this nightmare was finally over, for all of them.


	30. Never Too Late

**A/N:** Woundedowl here, to tell you both me and Lickitysplit are crying. Sobbing, for about two days now straight. This is my final author's note, my final message to all of you wonderful readers who took the amazing time to read our stories. We will forever be thankful for these months we wrote together, and to say I am not about to just lay on the floor and sob… I will always always be humbled by all of you. Lickitysplit… me just thinking about how much time and effort she has put into my silly ideas, and put up with my insanity (looks at Arondight, the sorceress, and the children) I will never be able to truly express how much I truly love her.

Thank you, everyone. We are pleased to let you know that we have begun plans for another story, so this is not farewell! We hope to see you all very soon. Now, onto the final chapter of The Time That Is Given.

Vhosek: (blows noise into tissue) oh my god, I'm gonna misssss you so much. We both are! Thank you, everything you said makes me cry more and I think I'm getting dehydrated. My computer is floating onto a board cause I accidently cried so much my room is flooded.

fanficlover2014: oh dear love, what would we do without your hilarious and spot on reviews? Every time you reviewed you made us so excited and we just enjoyed whatever you pointed out. Happy tears are the best tears. Yes, there will always be so many questions and AH HA you're right, there are clues we put through the story! Think of it as a finding waldo hahaha! Thank you buddy.

Kayla. panek: we are sad too… No, thank you for everything kind you have said, and yes, we are thinking of writing again. You are wonderful and all of your comments really helped us, thank you love.

peacerockgirl123: I know! Isn't Lickity the best? There is a reason I kidnapped her, of course. We'll see you there love!

BettyBest2: OUR LOVE! We literally couldn't live without you at this point, I think. I love reading your reviews and might be addicted too. Your insight of the chapters throughout this story made us aware of how our readers were seeing what we made, and it was invaluable the help you gave us.

sassykitten1701: We have updated! Here you go love, the last but still amazing chapter!

Chapter thirty: Never Too Late

* * *

Her shoulders are trembling.

"Please, open your eyes," Elizabeth croaks softly, pressing her face against Meliodas' cold skin in anguish. The wind is blowing fiercely, her nails digging into his shredded clothes, tears pricking the side of her lashes. The dust is scratching at her skin, and she curls towards the ground to protect herself from the force that almost lifts her off her feet.

The dread in her heart sinks into her stomach like a dead weight, and she _knows_ he isn't going to respond. It is as if the world shattered, lights and colors flashing behind her eyelids, and she knows he isn't here anymore. "Not like this. _Please, not like this._ " She has to be strong, stronger than she has ever been. _But how?_

Tears are slipping down her face, but she does not bother to brush them away, as sobs pass her lips. Instead, she wraps her arms tighter, pulling his body across her lap to rock him slowly. And her entire body aches.

"Elizabeth?" Someone is saying her name, which is strange, because she is alone in Vaizel. None of the others had returned with her when she had convinced Gilfrost to teleport her back. The others had not wanted her to go, but she _had_ to, she _needed_ to see him. To hold him. It was an absurdly futile and farcical effort, but, she _knew…_ but she had to make sure it was real and not some horrible nightmare.

Elizabeth sniffles, pressing her face in his shoulder. _To know for sure that he was gone. It had to be done._

"Elizabeth, let me help you."

Whose voice is that? It is a woman's, someone she knows… Why won't they just leave her alone with her grief? "Do you know where you are, Elizabeth?" They sound more urgent, their words quick with worry, but she turns and presses her face into his blond hair, kissing the side of his head. _Leave me alone._ Why couldn't they? His body is dead weight, but much lighter than she had imagined. He is so small now, she can cradle him easily, her hands clutching and squeezing the fabric of his clothes.

Small hands move, tiny little fingers curling on the skin of her shoulders.

 _That isn't right_.

Something very strange is happening. She keeps her eyes squeezed shut, biting into her wobbling lower lip, not wanting to look. But the nagging urge continues to make her eyes itch- to open and look down. But the fear-the fear makes her shake. If she sees his body empty against her, then she will know that the nightmare is real, again. That she has finally returned to the past, where there was no hope but for more bloodshed. If she can just hold him, and pray, and maybe he will return to her. Return to her like… like...

Another moment ticks by, then suddenly Elizabeth notices that his body is warm, not cold; her hands are pressed into soft fabric, not the hard muscle she had expected. Tiny hands and little nails scrape softly against the skin of her neck, the tight hold of a larger hand on her shoulder squeezing tight. With a shaking sob Elizabeth risks looking down. Her eyes flicker down to her lap, tears obstructing her view, and, and-

And finds it is not Meliodas she is holding, but Jason. Extremely large green eyes are blinking up at her sleepily, drooping and half-lidded. His hair is a mess, his clothes now covered in the dirt that she is bathed in from head to toe.

She- she's not in _Vaizel._ She is not mourning the violent loss of her love. She is surrounded by people. So many people: Diane is above her, peering down with her hands still over her ears, Merlin with a hand on her shoulder, a brow raised and searching Elizabeth's face. King is shouting at Lancelot... There is even Gilthunder and Howzer, other Holy Knights she recognizes standing nearby. They are in a large, destroyed clearing; but there are still grass and buildings and _people_ around them. Piles of dirt and rubble, yes, but not the blackened wasteland she first mistook herself to be in, again.

It's as if her vision clears. This is her son. This is the future, and she begins to shake even more, as she feels the steady rise and fall of his chest pressed tightly on hers. Jason. The son she hasn't even had yet. _Her third child,_ with Meliodas-

Meliodas!

Her head whips around in a surge of adrenaline, her heart pounding in fear as she looks all around. He would come back to her, he had promised. Her skin is clammy and pale- and suddenly a new memory surges to the forefront of her mind, the fog of confusion lifting as the last two weeks hit her all seemingly at once,

 _H_ _e pulls her hands down to his chest, pressing her palms against him as she hesitantly looks down, his heart beating against her skin. "Can you feel that? I'm alive. I came back for you. I promised you I will always come back to you no matter where I go, alive."_

The fight is over, the enemy has been killed and there is a rush of sound as loud cheers start around them. Dozens and dozens of Holy Knights cheering.

She blows out a deep shaky breath, the remaining little color in her face leaving her.

Elizabeth spots Meliodas not far away, and relief crashes through her like a wave as she tightens the hold she has on Jason. She watches him pull Tristan into a hug of his own, and suddenly it is as if a wave of _need_ becomestoo much as she watches them embrace. "Mom?" a small voice says against her neck, and with a choking laugh she relaxes her grip and looks down. Jason grins a slightly lopsided smile back up at her and says, "Can we get breakfast now?"

She laughs, truly laughs, kissing his cheek. "Anything you want," she answers. Elizabeth glances back up and sees Meliodas gripping Tristan by the arm, saying something to him; and then Tristan nods while the king looks over his shoulder. They are truly mirror images of each other, and Elizabeth feels her heart speed up and her cheeks flush as he looks for her. Their eyes meet, and Elizabeth blows out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. She knows that look, and the slightly crooked smile and the ease that takes over his frame. Their son is fine, their family has survived, they have come through another trial together.

She ignores the scorched crater near them, the cheering men and women all around them, never seeing the small bit of stained fabric that swirls away into the wind.

* * *

There is much to do after the battle: wounded to tend to, the fallen to be taken away, and the castle walls to be fortified enough to keep stable. The east gate is a lost cause, volunteers lining up to move away the rubble and stones. The entire Kingdom is in a frantic mess since the last explosion that sent roofs tumbling and shops creaking dangerously; people showing up for help through the day, injured appearing from the smallest child with scratches, to the outer wall guards who had been shaken from their posts and sent flying. Everyone is busy, including Elizabeth, who sends a still woozy Jason off with Margaret. Her sister scrambles to kiss his cheeks and coo the moment he settles into her arms, and Elizabeth tries not to get frantic, her hands still fidgeting as Jason doesn't get better. He needs rest, she knows, but all she wants to do is curl up with him and watch him sleep. However, she has to focus on her tasks of being the healer. As the queen.

She only gets a brief moment with Meliodas, a quick stolen kiss once he is convinced she is unharmed, before he is dragged away by his collar by Ban. A touch and a nod as she continues to help her- help _their_ kingdom- and it's a look that gives her strength, even as an hour slips into two, then three. Her arms begin to shake, a shine of sweat on her brow as she keeps using her powers on the injured and pained for the betterment of Lioness. At some point during her work they part ways, him to give orders and see to Lynette and his Holy Knights, rushing off in a swirl of authority; and for her, to help those who needed it.

The sorceress is the talk of the Kingdom.

The rushing work and running from bedside to bedside around the Kingdom reminds her starkly of the aftermath of the attack in Camelot; the smell of copper in the air and the sounds of orders being yelled. The groans and pained moans of people laid out in dozens in the infirmary; all very thankful as she comes to their side. So many people rushing to _her_ for commands. Yet, wherever she turns, people were speculating and rumors are spreading like wildfire, from it being a wicked specter to a creature who has crawled out of purgatory itself. Somehow, in the course of just a few hours the information of Lynette's physical possession and the royal family's disappearance and the responding battle is common knowledge. People are giving Elizabeth certain glances, staring at her face as though they are looking for _differences,_ and she is _sure_ they know now. People speak about her eyes, her dress, other's commenting in whispers of her hair that lays down freely across her back- a stark difference of how- Queen Elizabeth wore her hair always up in braids around her head. Names of people she had read about in the journal are being passed around freely, and her stomach twists in nervousness as to what it all will mean for her, for all of them.

But by the time it has reached the point she can leave the healing corridor, it is already mid-afternoon, and she can not stay to follow the whispers any longer.

Elizabeth quickly leaves to steal away and check on Jason. Even if she had only moments, she could take a peek on him, surely? As she walks towards the boy's room as quickly as her sore body will take her, she suddenly wonders if Tristan and Lynette are alright. Lynette… she had been injured, _unconscious_ when she had been taken away, and it hadn't been Elizabeth who had healed to check on them first, she swiftly changes direction and heads towards the princess' chambers instead.

As she walks through the anteroom, moving closer to the set of doors at the end, she can hear voices in the bedroom, so Elizabeth stops right before entering and peeks inside. Lynette sits at the head of the bed, her legs tucked up with her arms wrapped around them, a large blanket covering her. She's in a nightgown, her body free of dirt and blood. There are bandages wrapped around each of her arms and another set around her neck. Tristan is also there, sprawled out on the pillows without his armor; his clothing ripped and his boots tossed at the foot the bed. They lay side by side, their faces turned to one another in deep conversation, and Elizabeth ducks back to listen for a moment, not wanting to disturb them.

They look to be fine, and, it is apparent by their body language and the surprising lack of tension in the room that they have been talking for a long time.

Elizabeth rests her hands against the wood of the door, gulping quietly as she looks at her daughter. This was really the first time she had ever met her, the real Lynette, and... and she truly is a beauty. Even under all those bandages, her blond hair ruffled and the frown scrunching up her brow- with her soft blond locks and bangs covering her forehead, the way she holds her shoulders back as she relaxes- she _looks_ like a Princess and a Knight.

She picks up what they are saying as she leans in as far as she dares, and Tristan is filling her in on the things that have happened since Elizabeth woke up in the castle. Her hands fidget nervously as she listens to Tristan's version of the story, her ear pressed to the wood.

"Wait, you guys went on a boat?" Tristan nods and shushes her before continuing. Her face is scrunched up in obvious scrutiny, and when he gets to the part when Elizabeth had gotten lost in her own mind on Barsil, Lynette just can't hold her tongue any longer. "Tristan, that's- that's terrible! What did you- Wait, no, nevermind- go back to the last thing you said. About the rope on her neck. A rope? Why hasn't anyone tried to just… I don't know what, break this curse? Pull the thing off of her?"

"Because," Tristan lets out a breath, blowing his hair out of his face. He's laying on his back, both arms behind his head on a pillow next to hers. "We don't know what will happen," he answers.

"No offense," she says in a way that seems rather offensive, "but that seems really stupid." Lynette huffs a big breath, waving her hand two and fro. "So what you're saying is no one is going to _do_ anything, because it _might_ be bad."

Elizabeth frowns with her, as Tristan exclaims, "So what are you suggesting then? We should just zap her with some magic and hope Mom just reappears in a puff of smoke?"

"Don't be so dramatic." Elizabeth can practically hear Lynette's eyes roll, and she bites her lip, unable to help but think of her sister Veronica and hold in a tiny giggle. "What would you and dad plan for? Keep… _this_ her here, hope she lasts longer than all the other people who've _died_ already from the same curse she has? Then everyone just sticks their fingers in their ears and pretend everything's all hunky-dory?"

"No, that's not it at all," he argues. "But, Lynette, how can we break the rope and send her back without knowing for sure she'll even get there? And what about mom, _our_ mom? We could send _her_ to the past and never get _ours_ back in the end."

Elizabeth blinks away tears that threaten as Lynette says, "I just don't think I could live under a curse the rest of my life. I don't think _mother_ could either. Waiting for it to strike. Knowing there is another _me_ out there somewhere." There is a brief silence, and then the princess says, "Well get going, tell me the rest."

Tristan snorts. "I did tell you a lot of this before. You really don't remember anything?"

She stares at him blankly for a second, her voice dry. "Well seeing how it wasn't _me,_ no." There is another brief pause, and then Lynette says, "But… well, what's the alternative? She's just going to stay like this forever? We hope she doesn't… doesn't die too quickly? I mean, she's younger than we are." Lynette hesitates, unsure, "Should I- should I treat her like a younger sister? My mother is now my… my younger mother's twin sister or what?"

They both stare at each other.

Before they break out into a short laughing fit.

"Being with Dawn Roar has made you even weirder. But, I don't know actually." She hears the prince heave a sigh. "I guess it's up to them what to do. We can argue all we want, but if father thinks it's too big a risk he won't take it." There is another pause as Elizabeth turns away from the door and looks at the floor, her chest constricting. "Father and I… we fought, actually fought. And the Sins…" he trails off, the room going silent, "I never knew how truly powerful they were. The sheer presence they have... and I even thought for a moment... we might have been enemies. There is so much _we don't know_ about father, Lynette." Then Elizabeth flushes, pressing a hand on her cheek when she hears Tristan continue, "But- but don't worry about mother though. She's still our mom. She's different yes, but… she's the same too. It's hard to describe. You'll see what I mean."

"If she doesn't hate me, that is." Tristan argues sharply, but Lynette interrupts him. "I know! I know, and I might not remember any of it… and you've forgiven me, but… I know I've caused a lot of damage. How father could be so carefree with this whole 'stay here, everything will be fine'!" she mimics her voice into Meliodas cheerful one, using air quotes before continuing, "No one is going into detail with me Tristan, but I _killed_ people. I hurt friends and innocent people alike. That's not going to be forgotten in a couple hours. Facts are facts." Lynette holds up a loose fist and presses it against her temple, "And the fact is I went nuts."

"Now who's being dramatic?" He's giving her a look, the same as one of his father's and she huffs, thumping him on the arm, "Hey! You just said it yourself! It wasn't you. More than a hundred Holy Knights and even the Sin Council can vouch for that."

"Ha ha. Just what I need, a _trial._ " Elizabeth hears Lynette's breath catch, and she presses her lips together in worry as the princess says, "Tristan, I didn't… I didn't hurt Jason, did I?"

"No," he scoffs. "I mean, I think you scared him. You definitely weren't, you know, _yourself_. But you didn't hurt him." Then his voice softens as he says, "He was really worried about you. Even before the battle was over."

"Oh," Lynette puffs out a long breath, plopping her chin on her knees again. "That's a relief. I mean, I know what I did to you a-and to _Lancelot_." Her voice catches, and she quickly clears her throat, "But at least you guys-" She stops, and Elizabeth notices Tristan giving his sister a sideways glance, a lot like how Meliodas would look at her when she was upset. "Shit, I am so, so sorry, Tristan. I don't know how you can even _talk_ to me now, I don't deserve your forgiveness or _anything_ -"

"Don't be stupid," Tristan huffs. "What am I going to do, hate you forever for… what? Getting captured by the enemy? That sorceress was powerful! Plus, I hurt you just as badly. And- We- I- We already talked about this, we are fine. Lynette, come on." He sits up, leaning his shoulder against her. "It's over, so stop apologizing, you damn dummy."

"Boy, you really have a way with words," answers Lynette, but she is laughing now as she wipes her eyes, and Elizabeth is relieved- they look like they are going to be just fine. "What does Jason know about all this?" the princess asks.

Tristan clears his throat. "Nothing," he responds. "I don't know if Dad's going to tell him anything at all, either."

"That's not right," insists Lynette, and Elizabeth closes her eyes. "We need to tell him."

"There is _no_ way that Dad-"

"Wouldn't you want to know, if it was you?"

"He's six!"

"He's a prince! He's our little brother, he can take it."

She hears shuffling on the bed as Tristan says, annoyed, "Well of course, but it's not our choice to make."

"Isn't it?" she challenges. "A secret this big… he's going to find out. We need to protect him from that. It will hurt even worse if he finds out we've been lying to him. What if some stranger on the street just blurts it out! If Dad won't tell him, then we should."

"No."

"Yes."

"Do _not_ start this." He holds up a finger, pointing at her face.

"It's a little late for that," she answers back just as snarkily, flicking his finger.

They argue back and forth for a minute until finally Tristan throws up his hands, saying, "Fine! I'll go get him. But- and I mean it!- I just want to formally register that-"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you. Hurry up. Dad said I'm not allowed to leave the room, so you have to go do it."

Elizabeth jumps, not wanting to be discovered, so she knocks on the open door as if she had just entered from the hallway. Tristan is halfway towards the door and pulls up in surprise; behind him, Lynette's eyes go wide as she scrambles off the bed.

"Hi," Tristan says, his voice a bit tight, and he quickly walks towards her and places a tentative hand on her elbow. "Mom-uh, are you alright?"

Elizabeth smiles and nods, happy that he is _himself_ again. She would rather have him awkward, than with his temper. "I wanted to check on you both. To see if you were alright?" Her eyes move to Lynette, who seems frozen as she stares at the queen.

"We're fine," Tristan says. "Are you sure? You look-" he trails off, not wanting to comment out loud about her ruined clothes and her hair and probably the dust she was trailing behind her, her hair that was most likely a mess and her pale and sweaty skin… She smiles even more brightly; what a gentlemen. He steals a glance back at his sister as he quickly continues. "Actually, mother, in fact, I was just about to go and get Jason. Is everything okay outside?"

"Things are calm, for now. The injured are resting and I don't know where the Sins went, with your father," Elizabeth says happily, stepping forward to bring a hand up and fix a bit of his hair that was out of place. "Go on and get Jason, I'd like to see him too." Tristan hesitates, looking at her hand, then back between the two before saying, "I'm not sure if this is a good idea. Lynette is still-"

"It will be fine," she reassures him. "I'd like to talk to Lynette myself, actually." She looks over his shoulder and smiles as kindly as she can at the woman in bed, who was looking increasingly more panicked.

"Uh," he hesitates again, but then Tristan gives a short nod, mussing his hair himself and hurries out the door. When she turns back to Lynette, the princess starts in surprise, speaking loudly. "Er, Mom! Mother-Uh, wait no that's not what I meant, it's, uh, Your Grace-!" she stammers, her eyes wide in fear, and too many emotions pass over her face as Elizabeth walks closer.

Elizabeth keeps smiling warmly as she closes the distance between them, and takes Lynette's hands in her own as she keeps sputtering, pulling her to sit on the bed. And Elizabeth feels Lynette tense against her touch. "Let me help you with this," she says soothingly, and the princess swallows thickly, before nodding.

Her hands begin to glow, dimmer than usual with her exhaustion, but Elizabeth focuses intently as she slides them along her daughter's arms, barely touching her skin. It wasn't much, she couldn't heal the wounds completely, but the bruises and deeper injuries would certainly heal much more quickly. She couldn't just leave her to sit in pain.

Lynette gasps, and when Elizabeth looks up, she sees large round tears wobbling dangerously in her eyes. But Lynette refuses to let them fall as Elizabeth presses her palms gently on the girl's arms and says, "Does it hurt?"

"No," Lynette answers hurriedly, "no, it doesn't, it's... just-" She cuts off as she pulls away from Elizabeth's touch and rubs the back of her arm over her eyes. And her lips press together before tugging downward, "You don't have to heal me, I'm fine. I wasn't hurt that badly."

"You're very brave," Elizabeth says gently.

Lynette keeps her eyes covered with her arm, her shoulders trembling softly, refusing to meet her gaze. "I- I don't feel-" Then she starts crying, really crying with giant heaves and loud sobs, her head dipping down and her shoulders shaking. Elizabeth quickly pulls her into a firm embrace that Lynette immediately relaxes against her, her head tucked against her shoulder, just like Jason has done when Elizabeth holds him close. She shakes and sniffles and sobs into her dress. Her fingers curl tightly into Elizabeth's sides.

She smiles at the similarity even as Lynette croaks through her tears, "You feel the same." And letting out a soft sigh, Elizabeth rests her cheek on top of her blond hair, wrapping her arm tightly around her.

Her bluntness makes Elizabeth laugh, and she squeezes against her. "So I've heard. But I'm also glad to hear it," she answers with a chuckle.

"I'm sorry," Lynette whispers fiercely. "For everything. For everything I've done. I shouldn't have hurt you or the others-."

"I know," Elizabeth murmurs. "Things will work out, I'm sure of it. It always does somehow."

Suddenly Lynette sits up, jerking away from her shoulder to blink at her through her wet lashes, her skin a bit pale. Elizabeth frowns, worried if she had said something wrong, but then Lynette finally chokes out, "You always say that. How did you know?"

Elizabeth shakes her head, unsure of what to do for her, when suddenly Lynette shakes her head back and forth, before violently slapping both her hands against her cheeks. Loudly, and painfully, by the two large red hand prints marking her skin, and Elizabeth "eep" in surprise at the action. "Okay! I'm so sorry! I didn't-Tristan probably took this all with no problem, didn't he?" She wipes furiously at her wet face, determination back in her voice, "I'm usually not like this. Sorry Mother."

"You're handling it better than I did," Elizabeth chuckles, fiddling with a strand of her own hair. "I made Meliodas choke on breakfast and Tristan smash his feet." She laughs softly as Lynette sniffles, choking on her own laugh as she straightens her back, and after taking a few deep breaths to wrestle her emotions back under control, Lynette seems to finally calm down. And the queen can only watch her and admire her strength as Lynette's green eyes look up to her with both gratitude and wariness. There is a piercing in her chest, a bittersweet pride as she looks at the daughter she hasn't had yet.

 _Tristan and Jason had been so easy to love right away_ , she realizes, _because they are both so much like Meliodas_. Their faces flash into her mind: of their smiles and grins and overall cheerfulness that just shouts _family._ Of the carefree happiness and stubborn opinions that were so _easy_ to _want_ to be with. But Lynette reminds her of herself; or rather, a version of herself that she wants to be, wishes to be, that she _could_ be. She feels a connection she cannot begin to describe to this princess- no this Knight! And for the first time since meeting her children Elizabeth feels more than just curiosity over the years she has missed.

Now she feels an undeniable need for those experiences, as well as the bitter loss of never having the chance to have them. She's… She can feel searing burn in her chest, of _jealously._

She wants to love Meliodas, and to marry him, wearing the white dress in the closet and her hair pinned up in the way he likes, and see for herself the way he looked at her as they stood together and exchange vows; she wants to have his children, to be _pregnant_ with these children; to hold them and hear their first cries and know without any doubts that they belong to her. She needs to watch them grow up, she needs to teach Tristan manners and read to Jason and marvel at the way Lynette becomes the young woman who is sitting next to her on this bed.

So when Lynette turns to face her again, her eyes unflinching with resolution and determination to hold it together, Elizabeth just says, "You're right. I need to break this curse."

"Right- wait, What!?" Lynette's eyes go wide, and she's quickly reaching out and taking her mother by the wrists. "Mom- Your Grace- I didn't mean it like that!"

"I know," Elizabeth smiles. She holds Lynette's hands in hers and says, "I need to go back to where I _should_ be. And you all need the queen, your mother. I can't live here knowing that she could be suffering somewhere. That- that I am cursed, and do nothing about it. If the only way to bring her back is for me to go, then that's what I will do."

"What are you talking about?!" Tristan almost shouts at the door. Both women jump and turn towards the sound. He is standing with a look of shock on his face, his hand firmly keeping Jason against him by the shoulder. "I left for one minute Lynette!"

"Hey! Don't blame me _little brother,"_ she hisses.

"Lemme go, Tristan!" Jason yelps, and the prince quickly releases his brother. The boy scurries over and wedges himself between the two women as he climbs on the bed.

"You don't know for sure that it will bring her back!" he snaps, glaring at his sister.

" _Tristan_ ," Lynette growls, as she helps her brother situate himself, but the older boy cuts her off as he strides into the room. "No. Stop. Whatever you both talked about- You weren't there. You didn't-" He breaks off as the princess narrows her eyes, and he turns to look at Elizabeth. "After everything we've went through, you're just going to leave? After all the warnings? Mom… You're going to take this risk, so that-that what? On the slim chance it will even work?!"

"Don't you go trying to _guilt trip_ her Tristan-!" Lynette shouts at him again, but he throws her a dark glare before rushing on, "This is over, it's _finally_ over, and now you're going to leave? We killed the sorceress who yanked all those people through time! We saved Lynette! We know the truth about-about," his face scrunches up, before he glares off to the side, "You're going to leave Jason? Leave all of us? There's no guarantee, you know. _You_ could go, but _mom_ might never come back. And then what are we supposed to do?"

Elizabeth opens her mouth to speak, but is too shocked for anything to come out.

But then to their surprise, Jason speaks up, piping in a nonchalant, "We'll find Mom. Don't worry."

Three sets of eyes swivel to him, and he looks up at them with almost owl large green eyes as he shrugs. "What? She's gotta be around _somewhere_. People can't just disappear." He turns and looks up at Elizabeth with a grin. "If you want to go, it's okay. We'll find you. You aren't really good at hide and seek, momma, not ever." And he really does look sorry to tell her that, and Elizabeth blinks multiple times at the news.

"Jason?" Tristan finally sputters out, as Elizabeth makes a soft sound in the back of her throat, reaching up to rub her thumb on his cheek in shock. "Jason? You-you knew this whole time? How? Wh-when?"

"She smells different," Jason responds with another shrug. Then he looks back up at Elizabeth sheepishly. "Not _bad_ different. But Mom doesn't smell like you. Everybody has a smell and I know them." He wiggles his nose cutely as Lynette let's out a shocked snort, before a huge peal of laughter. She falls over on the bed as she holds her stomach, still laughing as Jason giggles and flops backwards too.

"But," Tristan looks stumped, "smell?"

"Yea!" He laughs, holding up his arms and waving them around while on his back, "Dad said it's a _family trade secret!_ I'm really good at it!" Elizabeth blows out a breathy laugh herself, chuckling at their silliness, and then turns to Tristan. He watches them all with an unbelieving expression before he looks back at Elizabeth- clearly exasperated by it all, but… but the prince's eyes are also sad, the hurt clear; then he closes them and swallows.

When he opens his eyes again, the pain is still there, but now there is courage, and resolve.

He nods, and Elizabeth smiles back at him. "Well," Tristan says seriously, running a hand through his hair, and Lynette and Jason quickly sober and look up, their focus on him. "Now all we have to do is convince _Dad_."

There is a long, dreadful moment of silence.

"Yay," Lynette finally says dryly.

* * *

She finds him soon afterwards in the main hall, sitting and eating with Ban, Elaine, and Lancelot. The two Sins are listening intensely as Lancelot talks, Merlin floating above them and watching Aldan as she too listens to his story, as Elaine simply sits and looks adoringly at her son.

"No, no, not like that!" Lancelot says as she approaches. "It was more like… imagine like you're sledding down a mountain. Only the mountain is a tunnel and it's super painful. And there is a hook on your neck and it pulls you and then you have to squeeze your whole body through a hole the size of an orange but you're like naked and covered in butter and-"

" _Lancelot_ ," Ban groans, sliding a hand down his face as Elaine smiles weakly. Merlin chuckles to herself, her eyes never leaving the orb as Meliodas just shakes his head, until he spots her.

Elizabeth can't help her own smile when she sees his. He quickly scrambles up and hurries over to her, dressed now in his full royal garb, his crown resting on top his head where it belongs. The king pulls her into a tight hug and plants a kiss on her lips in greeting, admiring the way her cheeks flush. "There you are," he says. "I was wondering where you had gotten off to!" His head plops against her chest, a happy and content sigh leaving him and into her breasts, and she fights off the urge to wiggle and blush from head to toe as he stays there.

"I went to check on Lynette," she answers, her hands soft but firm on his arms as he wraps them around her middle.

Meliodas stiffens just slightly, unnoticeable to anyone but her she supposes, but his smile never wavers. "Oh?" She nods, and he seems to contemplate it. "Is she doing any better? She was seeing a doctor when I left her."

"Y-yes," Elizabeth nods, nervously resting her hands on his shoulders. "She's... frightened, but alright." He peers up at her from between her cleavage, his eyes half lidded as he focuses on her burning red ears. "A-A-and a very sorry! And terribly sad, I think. But Tristan and Jason are with her now. She said you told her to stay in her room?"

"She's strong. I'm sure she will be alright." The king sighs, finally moving back, even as he rests his hands on her hips. "There's already talk about what to do with her, that she's dangerous. Which she's not. We know the truth, and so does Gilthunder and Howzer, but there are still a lot of questions and families who want answers." His hand reaches out for hers, holding it tight. "I need to make sure that she is safe until we get this sorted out. It won't take long."

She squeezes his hands back reassuringly. "I know you will." There is a brief pause as he smiles at her adoringly, his eyes bright, and her heart twists a bit as she hurries on, "I- I came because I need… I need to talk to you about something." She ignores the rush of what could be guilt that weighs her tongue down, focusing instead on Ban and Lancelot who were giving Meliodas matching bored glances at his antics.

Meliodas kisses the backs of her hands one more time before saying, "Of course! We're almost done here with Lancelot." He pulls her with him back to the table. Ban looks exhausted, giving her a half-hearted wave as Elaine weaves her arm through his, and his son perks up even more and says, "Yo, Aunt Elizabeth!"

"Lancelot," she says warmly, taking Meliodas' seat when he offers it. "It's still so amazing to see you!"

"You too! Gotta say you don't look too bad yourself when not knocked out!" The _look_ both Ban and Meliodas gives him makes him pause, before he says, "What?"

"He was just filling us in on his experience coming back," Merlin says evenly. "We need to better understand the magic at work here."

Lancelot shrugs. "Not much else to tell honestly. I was fighting fake Lynette, and then I lost against fake Lynette, and then there was a shit ton of pain, and then boom-there's my Ma." He winks at Elaine before turning to Merlin with a hand scratching his jaw. "I'm telling you, Jason's got the Time Magic. He's the queen's opposite. Like how Tristan is the king's."

Elizabeth and Meliodas exchange a look. "Tell me about the opposite thing," Meliodas says.

"Oh!" Lancelot's eyes widen as he leans forward eagerly, his elbows up on the table. "When we were on Barsil Tristan wanted to ask the Great Leader about that thing when you guys exploded each other back in Vaizel. Remember how crazy that was?" Meliodas gives a little wave of his hand to tell him to hurry up, and Lancelot nods vigorously. "Yeah, of course you do. Anyway, Tamise-she was this girl who-" here Lancelot briefly closes his eyes, "-was absolutely _gorgeous_ , I mean, just _so_ -"

The king clears his throat loudly and Lancelot snaps upright, "Right! She told us since the two of you- _you know_ -are…" He puts his fingers in the air and gestures to make quotation marks. " _Making babies_ , so to speak, literally-" Ban reaches out to snatch at him but Lancelot dodges him easily. "-Anyway! She said since _you_ two were opposites being like, a demon thing and goddess thing, that your _kids_ would have some kind of crazy opposite superpowers. I mean, yeah. _Super_ powers. Tristan is the king's opposite, so when their powers connected, they cancelled each other out and it went- _kaboom_. Completely uncontrollable."

He makes an explosion sound as he looks between the others. Elizabeth turns to Meliodas, who is frowning in thought. "I never really thought about it, but I guess _Counter_ and _Strike_ really are opposites. Merlin, have you ever heard of this?"

" _Counter_ ,which will always block magical attacks, and _Strike_ ,which will always hit a target magically." The mage tilts her head in thought. "It's something that has been speculated, but rarely do powers manifest themselves as strongly as yours, or the prince's. Or that both would exist at the same time. Besides," she says, tracing a finger along her lower lip, "The races don't mix, before you went out of your way." Meliodas doesn't look _at all guilty_ when Merlin sends him a look. "Personally I have no data on this matter. It's too rare for children to be born of such natures. But yes, in theory, it makes sense."

There is a brief pause as they all consider her words, and then Elizabeth blurts out, "Would the power released by them be enough to cut the rope binding the curse?"

"Elizabeth!" Meliodas exclaims, his hand going tight on her forearm. She tries to look around him for Merlin's response, but he leans into her field of vision, forcing her to face him. "Don't even say something like that! I thought we agreed we were not worrying about breaking this curse, that it was too risky."

Elizabeth clears her throat, the others staring. "I don't see the harm of having this information."

"Elizabeth," His brows draw down as he says quietly, "Are you… changing your mind? I thought…"

"I just want to know," she says firmly. "Merlin, is it possible?"

"It's possible," she answers, her eyes back to being trained on Aldan. "The power from those two opposing forces meeting could be enough."

"Uh," Lancelot murmurs, looking at his pop, "should we get out of here?"

"It doesn't matter," Meliodas says flatly. Which tells everyone how angry he truly is getting. "Even if we wanted to break the curse, it's too dangerous for me to use _Full Counter_ against Tristan's _Targeted Strike_. We could accidentally kill… someone." He leaves the _you_ unspoken, but Elizabeth keeps her face steady, her shoulders back and straight.

"Why not try Jason?" Lancelot interrupts them, and they look over at him. "He's an opposite too, I'm telling you."

"But how?" Elizabeth asks.

Merlin opens her mouth to answer but Lancelot interrupts quickly, "That's easy! You heal by speeding up the process. Jason makes things go backwards."

Meliodas looks at Merlin with raised eyebrows, and she shrugs. "That is a mystery I haven't quite solved yet, not until I see him."

"Lancelot," Elizabeth says, turning back to him, "will you go and get him and bring him here? He's in Lynette's room." The earnestness in her face and tone make any remarks die on Lancelot's lips, and he nods and quickly exits the hall.

"What are you doing?" the king whispers at her fiercely, and Ban jumps up, "Come on, Merlin, I want to ask you something about Lancelot anyway." They move away to give the couple privacy, Ban grumbling and scratching his scalp as he eyeballs the king in the corner of his eyes, practically dragging Elaine away as she tries to stay and listen.

Meliodas sits in the chair next to hers. He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, their legs touching so there was no room between them, and he looks at her pleadingly, even as she stubbornly keeps her lips pressed firm together. "Please, don't tell me you are thinking about this. We talked about this, we _decided_ this already."

"I know," Elizabeth says quietly. Her eyes sweep over his face, and she feels the stabbing in her chest again, knowing she is about to hurt him. "I- I know we decided. But I will not stay here. I'm going back. She- The queen-"

" _You_ are the queen," he interrupts with a growl, but Elizabeth hurries on, "She's out there somewhere! She's looking for you!" She can't get the words out fast enough it seems, putting a hand over her chest as her emotions take over, and she simply feels overwhelming _determination_ as his eyes snap between her two. "She's looking for her family, never stopping to find you or see you again, she's lost and she won't give up hope you will find her, and my being here is _stopping_ her from finding you!"

"You don't know that."

"If she truly is me, then yes. I _know!"_ Elizabeth reaches out a tentative hand, sliding her fingers along his palm before intertwining them. She looks down at their hands as she squeezes it. It was something she would have never _dreamed_ of doing, not even two weeks prior- but this time between them,this time with _this_ Meliodas, has showed her she didn't have to hold back anything from him at all. "I might not be completely certain of everything. But it feels right. And my staying here feels _wrong_. She is out there, Meliodas. _She is._ "

She glances up in time to see the sheer _pain_ on his face, the split second before he hides it away behind his mask.

"I'm not," she starts again as he closed his eyes, his face blankly carved as she keeps talking. "I am not ready for this life. I did not do the many things that have earned me what she has given you. This... It isn't mine. I am not willing to pretend to be this woman who has captured your heart." The king starts to protest, weakly trying to say something, but she shakes her head. "I need to go back. Not for myself but for all of us. And she needs you to find her."

"Momma! Dad!" a happy voice calls from across the room-

But at the same moment Meliodas jumps up, knocking his chair over with a loud clatter. "No!" he shouts, his eyes darkening, making her gasp softly in surprise, and the room goes quiet. "You are _not_ doing this! I won't let you! Damn it Elizabeth, listen to your own words!"

The silence is heavy as the king and queen stare at one another. Slowly Elizabeth stands, drawing her shoulders back as she had watched Lynette do so earlier. "Please," she says, "just for-"

"I'm not letting you leave me," Meliodas says fiercely. "I'm not letting _you die."_

"Dad!" He holds up a hand, gesturing to the others to be quiet, but a moment later, Jason is between them. "Dad, stop!"

"Tristan, come get Jason out-"

"No!" Jason yells, his hands balling into fists. "You have to listen! You never _never_ just listen!"

Elizabeth can see that Meliodas is trying hard to keep his temper. "It's okay," she assures the boy, putting a hand on his shoulder. Jason tries to protest, but she shakes her head firmly.

"You need help," he pleads loudly. "I want to help! Please?"

Her breath catches and she kneels down, scooping Jason into a tight hug. His arms go around her neck as hers hold onto his waist, and she kisses his cheek. "Do you know that I love you?" she whispers.

"Yeah?" He nods against her, and Elizabeth stands, picking him up and cradling him fiercely. She looks at Meliodas, who is looking at his son with pain etched on his face. "I understand," she says slowly, and his eyes return to meet hers. "I understand why the sorceress did this. There is _nothing_ worse than losing the one that you love."

"Elizabeth…" Meliodas whispers, but she continues, "I thought that losing you in Vaizel was the worse thing that could happen. But you are going to come back to me. You _promised_ you would, and I need to be there when that happens. And you…" She presses her cheek against the side of Jason's head. "She lost her son. She was looking for him everywhere and in anyone. She saw glances of him wherever she turned, and I know this because I see them too. What hasn't happen to me yet… She spent thousands of years alone, wondering where he was, searching if he was even alive. The queen is doing the same thing, right now. I can't let you break your promise to her. You said you would always find me. That you would _always_ come back. No matter what. Now you need to… because… Because if you don't, who is to say that I won't one day end up exactly like the sorceress, twisted with hatred from a broken heart?"

There are tears running down her cheeks freely now, but she does not move to wipe them away. Too many tears have been spilled over something as small as going home. "Mom?" Jason says, picking up his head. She turns her face to look at him and he says, "If you have a broken heart, I can fix it, you know. I can fix all kinds of stuff."

Elizabeth smiles, kissing his forehead. "That's exactly what I want you to do. But if you do that, I'm going to go back to where I belong. Are you okay with that? Do you understand?"

The sound Meliodas makes, it isn't something someone should make. He then lifts a hand up, covering his face. And for a split second she sees his mouth twist up into a terribly painful tremble, before it is covered too.

Jason nods, smiling brightly up at her. "Don't worry. I always knew you had to go back! We're going to look for you here too. Tristan and Lynette will help Dad, won't you?"

She looks up to where the two older children stand, silently watching. Tristan is completely still, his eyes shining, his stance just like the king's; Lynette, however, is crying openly, clinging onto his arm, but with the best smile she could make at the moment on her face. "We'll find her, we promise," she says, and Tristan nods in agreement.

Elizabeth scans the room, seeing Merlin watching them, her expression unreadable. Ban and Lancelot stand together, the Sin of Greed's arm holding onto his son so tightly he is practically in a headlock, the other arm holding Elaine tight to his side. She's smiling, but looking to the side, unable to look at them as her hands fist the sides of her skirt into tight balls. Lancelot is trying to say something to too, she's sure, but his face is already turning slightly purple. She thinks about Diane and King still out in the courtyard, of Margaret and of Hawk and of Gilthunder… of her father she knows is gone now, of Veronica who will return back to the castle only to hear second hand of what happened. Of everyone she had met since waking up in the future. All those who had helped her, them. Of everyone she was about to leave without a second glance behind or a farewell.

Then she takes a deep breath and looks back at Meliodas.

His head is bowed, his eyes hidden by his hair. He stands leaning a bit to the side, his arms folded now…. And there is no indication that he has heard any of this, but- but Elizabeth knows better. It _hurts_ to see him. His attention is always on her, has always been since the moment she opened her eyes the first time in the tavern six months ago, and she could remember craving it, condemned to always simply _love_ him with everything and anything she had. And in return, everything he has ever done has been for her. Her heart is breaking to leave him, her throat closing, and the nausea that sweeps through her in that moment almost makes her dizzy; even as a swell of overwhelming adoration stuns her. She will always want his happiness, and that she could do this for him…. She knew she was going to hurt him, but she _loved_ him so much she was willing to be the one who took the blame instead of him shouldering it.

Several moments go by, and no one speaks.

Finally Meliodas turns his head a bit, still not looking up at her, and says quietly, "How would this work, Merlin?"

The mage takes a breath and steps forward. "We'll have to just try. I would like Gowther to help, however with him gone… I can pull the rope taut, and then the queen and the prince will… use their powers."

Meliodas nods. He is turned away from her still, his face still hidden, his body language unreadable, and Elizabeth remembers how he would not face her in the Boar's Hat, as he told her she was no longer welcome to travel with them. His back to her in the shirt she had given him, how simply but _harshly_ he had tried to save her from herself. She understands that he is trying to be strong, but in that moment, she wants to be the strong one. And, she supposes, she had been so preoccupied with _saving them_ she had almost forgotten _why_ she had to do this.

She carefully sets Jason down by her feet, her son looking up at her questionably as she takes small steps towards him. Meliodas does not move, doesn't respond, even in the split second decision she makes to throw her arms around his neck. She presses her face into his hair and squeezing her eyes shut, she _holds_ him. Nothing else, nothing more. She keeps her arms wrapped around his neck even as his crown clangs on the floor underneath them, spinning off to finally rest a few feet away.

She holds Meliodas.

Not the future king, not the man who was dead but would return, not the man who married her or the father of her children… Not even the man who would someday tell her his past or his sins… She is holding all of him, now in this moment. His past and his future and his present. He had given her _so much-_ her shoulders start to tremble, as she presses her face to his skin, her lips feeling his pulse beat lightly underneath them; and this is the time she has to pay to have it.

There is a moment of hesitation, that feels like a second and an eternity before she feels him move. His hands slip around her back slowly, his fingers dragging up her back to finally rest against her shoulder blades; and she lets go a shaking breath in relief. There are more tears that rise to the surface as she feels him position a bit, resting his chin on her shoulder and she holds him tighter, willing herself not to break down. She is afraid if she sobs, if she were to show him just how terribly hard this was he will change his mind, and not let her go after all.

"Thank you," she whispers into his neck, and his fingers dig into her back as his hold tightens, so suddenly the air leaves her in a whoosh. He's holding on like he might fall over, pressing into her and Elizabeth can only remembers how she had held him before, all those times she thought she'd never see him again: after he had showed up in her father's chambers to rescue her from Vivian; after fighting Hendrickson and saving the kingdom; in Vaizel…. when she had found his broken and lifeless body. Elizabeth had held him against her, just like this. Meliodas returns her embrace, as if in the next moment she would be lifeless against him.

Suddenly a sudden dread fills her. Alarm and fear all but swallows her whole, paralyzingly her as his fingers dig into her back: What if she is making the wrong choice? What if she goes back, and _her_ Meliodas does not come back? What if she goes back and dooms this Meliodas to be nothing but a widower?

"I'll find you."

It isn't a promise that he whispers back, his breath against her ear; no. He says it like it is a certainty. That there was no way he could _not_. And instantly her fears are soothed. Gone, as if they were never there to begin with. Because this is _Meliodas_. She runs her fingers in his hair, feeling the warmth of his cheek against hers, trying to hold on to this moment of him being alive in her arms before she must return to the cold body awaiting her in Vaizel.

Elizabeth did not get to say goodbye then, so she is determined to say everything she did not last time. But her throat is suddenly dry and stuffy, and when Meliodas pulls back a few inches, finally looking at her, the look in his eyes wraps around her like a warm embrace…. all she manages to say is, "I love you."

Meliodas nods. "I love you too. I will find you." He kisses her then, firmly, trying to make it last as he tilts her head and then says against her lips, "It has always been you. It always will be you."

She brings up her hand cradles his face, giving him a last, brief kiss that makes her stomach twist, and then Elizabeth steps back while her resolve remains. Her chest is heaving with emotion, her eyes wet with tears she would not let fall, but to her relief he is not crying. He is not hiding his emotions behind his mask or pretending to be alright.

She smiles so brightly her cheeks flush, so absolutely _happy_ to see him, and happy to have _known_ this him.

Quickly she turns and hurries over to Tristan, who looks broken, pulling him into a tight hug. "I love you," she says fiercely, kissing his cheek. Then she embraces Lynette, who hugs her back tightly, a wobbly sob resting on Elizabeth's neck. "Mom," the girl whispers, and Elizabeth kisses her forehead before moving away.

"Okay," she says breathlessly. Elizabeth turns and looks at Merlin, wiping her eyes. "I'm ready."

"Good. Come along your Majesty." The mage nods, gesturing for her to come closer with a wag of her finger. Elizabeth glances at Meliodas, who is watching intently, his arm around Jason who has his hands on his father's fallen crown. She crosses to stand in front of Merlin who has floated down to them, and Elizabeth turns around, sweeping her hair over her shoulder to reveal the rope burned into her neck. Meliodas steers Jason towards her, and she kneels, taking him into a tight embrace. The king keeps a hand firmly on the boy's back, his other coming up to lace his with her own, and she kisses Jason's cheek.

"Are you ready?" she says happily, and Jason nods. "Yep!" he says determinedly, "Don't worry. Dad will find you."

Elizabeth closes her eyes, laughing softly. How strange it feels, for a child to comfort the adult. There is a touch on the back of her neck, and then a tightening, and she knows Merlin is pulling the rope. She shivers at the sensation, but Meliodas' touch gives her strength.

She focuses on the pain in her chest, blocking out the sounds of everyone murmuring around her, keeping her mind on the constricting of her heart as she knows this is the end. It's hard to focus on healing herself with how tired she is. All the magic she had used today had drained her, her limbs screaming in protest as she pushes and pushes. And at first she is afraid this won't work.

No. No, it will. She can feel their magic behind her closed eyelids, lighting up the entire room, feels Jason huff and push on her with his little hands. She is not going to give up, she is _not_. Because she is not going to put her family through this. She is not going to hurt Meliodas or Jason or Tristan or Lynette **anymore** _._

Then there is another feeling, and Jason's energy presses into her. It envelopes her heart, and suddenly she has something to latch onto. Something is also there that feels… Oily, strange and unpleasant and _not right,_ and Elizabeth focuses her energy on Jason, ignoring how the strange tugging makes her want to _stop-_ but such a thing wouldn't happen. She will not do it, and she tries to entwine everything she has left with his, wishing her heart to heal. Wishes for the curse to be broken. That this time would hurry faster so that she would no longer be in pain. The power from her son begins to flow inside her, se feels it burn through her veins and heat up every inch of her skin, filling her quicker than she would have ever imagined; and it takes all of her strength to match his power with hers, concentrating as hard as she can on trying to heal her heart.

The wind starts like a breeze on her skin, and for a moment, she turns her head against it in surprise; then suddenly it blows stronger, incredible harsh and like sand paper to her cheek- whipping around her like a hurricane. She cries out, unable to stop herself and suddenly frightened, and tightens her hold on Jason, afraid he will blow away. The pulling on her neck goes momentarily sharp; then at once,

 _the hold on her breaks._

Elizabeth falls forward, and she cries out, afraid of hitting the floor as she flings her arms forward. There is more rushing around her, the noise louder than she had imagined in her ears, and she is afraid of opening her eyes and finding herself falling from a cliff. Her stomach drops and the warmth inside of her is doused instantly- and then, all at once, it stopped.

With a shaking breath, Elizabeth swallowed, blinking her eyes. She was still gripping Jason tightly to her chest, and her heart sank, knowing that it did not work. But when she looked down, she cried out in relief and sorrow when she sees Meliodas there, cold and covered in blood, just as before.

Elizabeth sobs.

Pulling him upwards and against her, her tears overwhelm her. "I did it," she cries against his hair. "I came back to you."

Rocking him gently, she cried for her loss, for the future she no longer is a part of, for the family she has left behind, for her own self that is lost somewhere in the future. The fact such things were no longer her concern. Not for _twenty five_ more years. But eventually, the tears turned from sorrow to joy, her sobs turning to hiccups which started to shake her shoulders, as instead of _crying_ she was airily _laughing._ It may have seemed insane- sitting her like this, looking up at the sky and the millions of stars in the night… but no. Because she has done it; she has returned to him, just as she said she would.

Now, all that was left is to wait for him to fulfill his promise.


End file.
